


Ellie's Denmark Adventure

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: ABDL, Ableism, Crying, Culture Play, Diapers, Emotions, F/M, Frotting, PIV, Vomit, blowjob, pants messing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 08:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 49,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15748440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Ellie lands in Denmark. Things go interesting places from there.





	Ellie's Denmark Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy, Vee. <3

Eleanor Donner sat on a bench in the Copenhagen airport, and she did her best not to cry.

Part of the problem was that she wasn't exactly a... pretty crier. There are people who can cry effortlessly - photogenic tears shining across their cheeks, down their cheekbones, dripping off of their chin. 

There are even people who can do the whole... shoulders shaking, artfully reddened cheeks, quiet little sobs.... 

Ellie was not one of those people. 

Ellie barely had to get a lump in her throat, and her nose would start running, her lower lip start wobbling.... 

It would have been easier if she wasn't such a softy to begin with. 

In the right frame of mind, a picture of a kitten could make her sob like her heart was breaking.

And now... Lars wasn't answering his phone.

They'd had all of those deep, intense conversations, he'd encouraged her to come visit, he'd said he'd come visit her... and he'd been waiting here for him for almost four hours. And he wasn't answering his phone, and she was... she didn't know what to do.

She could feel her lower lip begin to wobble, the ring there clacking against her teeth, and her nose was doing the... thing, and so was her chest. Her breath was getting all gaspy, and she was just... sitting here, her small suitcase pressed between her legs, and she clutched at her backpack like a teddy bear, curling herself around it. 

Her face was pressed into the light blue fabric, and it smelled like airplane - _she_ smelled like airplane, and she was really beginning to cry now, ugly crying, and she had to shove her fist into her mouth to keep from making too much noise, because there were so many people here, looking so.. dignified. 

So adult. 

Here she was, sitting in a screaming blue sweater, her screaming green hair tied back sloppily. 

She was... she was sticky, she was stiff, she was _so_ tired... and she was crying, she couldn't seem to stop crying as she rocked in place, clutching her backpack, and she was... she was still crying, she was crying so hard, that she couldn't breathe, that her chest hurt, that her... it was all... oh god, oh fuck, she was....

"Um... excuse me?"

She looked up - there was a man standing there, and he had big blue eyes and a slightly worried expression. 

He was holding out a tissue.

He was speaking English, with that same liquid, slippery Danish accent that always made her squirm, just a little bit. 

"Excuse me?" 

"That's what I said," he said, and he smiled, his eyes crinkling up at the sides. 

He had a close trimmed, red-blond beard, and his hair was just long enough to curl, just a little bit. 

His eyes were almost startlingly blue - she'd seen pictures of glacial ice before, and that was what she was reminded of, more than anything else.

... maybe she was thinking about that because she didn't want to think about the fact that she was stuck in an airport in a foreign country, 

"Sorry," Ellie said, and she took the tissue, dabbing at her face. "I, uh...."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"I was, um, I was... I was supposed to take a... that is, my friend was supposed to pick me up, but... he kinda didn't." 

He nodded, encouragingly, and then he was sitting next to her, close enough that his knee was almost touching hers. 

He had a listening sort of face.

Or maybe she was just gibbering inside, like something out of a certain kind of gothic novel.

She wiped her eyes, and then she blew her nose, only aware halfway through that she was being... well, less than attractive.

He just offered her another tissue - he must have had a whole packet of them in his pocket. 

"Have you tried calling your friend?"

"I don't get an answer," said Ellie, and then she started to hiccup, which... for fuck sake. 

Could her body just... not embarrass her, for once in her goddamn life? 

"Do you want to try my phone? It might be because you're out of your regular range," he said. "What's your name?"

"I'm Eleanor," she said. "Everyone calls me Ellie, though." 

"Hello, Ellie," said the man, and he smiled at her, his teeth very white. "My name is Arlan."

"That's a nice name," she said, and then she was blushing. 

Um. 

That was an awkward thing to say. 

God, she was so fucking awkward. 

"Thank you," said Arlan, and he smiled at her again. "So would you like to use my phone?"

"Oh geez," said Ellie, and she gave a watery, awkward laugh. "Shit. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be swearing at someone I just met. Let alone a foreign someone I just met. Although I guess that you being here versus me being here is different, because here I'm the one who's foreign...."

"Relax," Arlan said, and he patted her on the shoulder. "It's okay. Okay?"

"Okay," she said, and she gave another embarrassing hiccupy sob.

“Now,” he said, “do you have your friend’s number?”

“Right,” she said, and she picked up his phone.

Her hands were still shaking.

She carefully dialed in Lars’ number, and then she was leaning back in the bench, listening to it ring.

And then it was just the phone ringing, and it was Lars’ voicemail, the recorded Danish voice mechanical in her ear. 

She snuffled, and then she was crying again, because she didn’t know enough Danish to know the specifics, but she could tell that she was getting some equivalent of “inbox is full” or something like that. 

She began to cry again, more floodgates opening, sobbing ugly, and she was crying so hard that it almost felt like she was going to throw up. 

Oh god.

She couldn’t throw up, not in this foreign country, not in this foreign airport.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide, and he looked back, and he was still smiling.

He didn’t even look weirded out, which… wasn’t something she was expecting. 

She thought he’d be weirded out.

She thought he’d be mad at her.

Or… something.

“Can you… can you point me in the direction of the local cab company?”

Could she even afford a cab right now?

How was she going to get… anywhere?

She had Lars’ address in her phone. 

She could do it. 

… what if he wasn’t there?

The panic was already beginning to sink into the back of her mind, and it was going blank.

Oh god. 

“Ellie?” 

Arlan’s voice was coming from a long way off.

She turned her head slowly, to look at him, and he was reaching out with cautious hands, resting them on her arms and squeezing them. 

“Ellie?”

“Um?”

“Do you have enough money to get a cab?”

“I… I don’t have know,” Ellie said.

“How about I give you a ride to your friend’s house?”

She paused - getting in a car with a stranger in a country where she didn’t even speak the language? 

Was this a good idea?

Then she sighed, and blew her nose.

What else was she going to do?

“Can I, uh, can I compensate you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, and he smiled at her again. 

“Thank you,” Ellie said, and then she was crying again, because the kindness of strangers can be overwhelming, and she wasn’t at her emotional… best at present. 

He wordlessly offered her another tissue. 

She blew her nose again. 

* * * 

Arlan drove a small, grey car. 

Her suitcase and backpack fit into it easily, and he smiled at her encouragingly as she slid into the front seat. 

She was a bit too short for the passenger seat, and he had to help her push it forward.

“Sorry about that,” he said, and he had such a _nice_ accent. 

Even in her distress, she was noticing how nice his accent was, which was probably kind of weird, but fuck it. 

Everything about this had been weird. 

Nothing had felt real since she had gotten on the plane - first with the unreality that comes with something new, then the surreality of everything going wrong.

Although Arlan didn’t seem to be going wrong - he took her instructions calmly, almost cheerfully. 

“I’m sure he just forgot his phone,” Arlan said, as they made their way down the highway, towards the small suburb. “It will be fine, I’m sure.”

Ellie stared out the window her eyes wide. 

It was all so much… flatter than she’d expected it to be. 

So much wider. 

The clouds were a deep, pewter grey, and she looked up at them, trying to keep her eyes open, the exhaustion crashing down on her.

She knew, logically, that she wasn’t… exactly safe - she didn’t know Arlan that well, it would be a bad idea to fall asleep in front of him, but she was _so_ tired.

The jet lag was already descending, and she was struggling to keep awake.

“Do you want to just tell me the address, and you can nap in the car?”

His voice was sweet, and seemed to be coming from far off. 

She yawned, rubbing her eyes, and she stared into the windshield, watching the landscape go by, as they drove away from the airport, towards the city. 

She was woken up with a jolt, when they stopped at a gas station. 

“Um?”

She sat up, rubbing her eyes. 

“Sorry,” he said, “but I needed a bathroom break.”

“Oh,” she said. “Right.” 

“You should have one too,” he said. “SInce I don’t really know when we’re gonna be near a bathroom again, until we get to your friend’s place, it’s kind of a long trip.”

“Right,” said Ellie. “Sorry. Spaced out.”

“I’ve had that jet lag,” he told her. “Trust me. No judgement.”

“Right,” she mumbled, and she sat up, making her way towards the bathroom.

* * * 

There were two buttons on the toilet.

What did that mean?

She didn’t have too much time to think about it - she hadn’t realized just how badly she had to pee, until she was shoving her jeans down and sitting down.

She pissed like a beast, leaning back into the coolness of the tank, and she kept her eyes shut.

Even the bathrooms in the gas stations were clean, and what were the chances of that?

She was still giggling as she wiped, and pressed a button at random to flush.

… hopefully, that would do it. 

She washed her hands, and then she was out, going back to Arlan’s car.

He was leaning against it, and he was holding a little shopping bag.

“Would you like some candy?”

“My mother always told me not to take candy from strangers,” Ellie said before she had a chance to think of what she was saying. 

“Well, we’re not strangers,” he pointed out, and he held out the little bag to her. “Want some?”

She looked at the bag, then looked at his face.

He was… well, not to be too blatant, he didn’t look like someone who could beat her in a fight. 

If he tried anything… well, funny, she’d probably be fine. 

He had a long, lanky build, and okay, so she was in a foreign country, but… how bad could it be? 

A woman screaming and crying would result in some kind of reaction, right?

Especially with a random man.

Although it would be easier if she actually knew the language. 

… in retrospect, it would have helped to study a bit of Danish before she came here.

Lars had said he’d do all of the talking, and she’d been okay with that, but… now it seemed like a bad idea.

She really should have thought this through a little better.

“Ellie?”

Arlan shot her a worried expression. 

“Mm?”

She looked over at him. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, and she slid her hand into the bag, taking a piece of candy and putting it into her mouth. 

And then she groaned, wrinkling her nose, coughing.

“What the fuck was that?” 

Arlan’s eye were crinkled up, and he was grinning again, looking like he wanted to start laughing. 

“That was salted licorice,” he told her. 

“... salted licorice.”

“Your buddy didn’t tell you about that?

“No, actually,” she said. 

She was blushing very hard.

Had she just committed a faux pas? 

Shit. 

And he was laughing. 

He had such a nice laugh - he sounded like he was laughing at her, but nicely. 

Like she had just told an especially good joke, and maybe she had screwed up in the telling a bit, but it was still a good joke. 

"I got you some chocolate as well," he said, and he held it out to her. 

"Oh, thank you," she said. "You didn't have to do that."

"It's fine," he reassured her. "Like I said - I know how bad jet lag can be. The chocolate can help wake you up."

She looked down at the familiar gold wrapper of a Twix bar, and she smiled.

"I didn't know you guys had these here."

"We don't just eat reindeer and salted licorice," he said, and he smiled at her, looking amused.

Her stomach did a little flutter, and the sun caught the red tones in his hair, making them catch more light.

Oh _god_. 

She was going to stay with Lars, who was her sort of long distance boyfriend.

She wasn't going to suddenly catch a crush on the random guy who was giving her a ride to said boyfriend's place.

She caught crushes at the drop of a hat sometimes - it was embarrassing as all hell, and she never heard the end of it, growing up.

... she'd fallen pretty hard, pretty fast for Lars, come to think of it. 

But no, she was going to see him.

She was going to see him, and that was the important thing. And he would be glad to see her.

... right?

She sighed, and she ripped open the candy bar, and took a bite out of it.

The sweetness filled her head like a sunrise, and she chewed, the crunch of the cookie and the chewiness of the caramel mixing with the melting chocolate.

She was so tired, and this was all so... much.

She got back into the car, looking up at the sky as he pulled out. 

It was still so... wide. 

It was so different from New York City, in ways that she hadn't expected.

The air smelled different, for one.

"Can I ask an awkward question?"

"Hm?"

_He's going to ask me about why I was willing to come to Denmark like this, he's gonna tell me I'm dumb, he's gonna make fun of me for not knowing the language...._

"Did that hurt?"

"Did what hurt?"

He glanced at her, and he tapped the middle of his lower lip.

"That," he said. 

"Oh!"

She tapped her lip ring, and it clicked against her teeth. 

"I'm kind of afraid of needles," said Arlan, and he looked sheepish. "Something about 'em just... gives me the creeps."

"Yeah?"

"I've never told anyone this before," Arlan said, and he was blushing, "but the first time I went to give blood, I kind of... threw up on the nurse."

"Oh no!"

"Yeah," said Arlan, and now he was laughing at himself. "It was... it was one of the most embarrassing moments in my life."

"It sounds kind of embarrassing," she said. "I once peed my pants in front of my whole class."

"We all do that when we're young," he said.

"It was a year ago," said Ellie, and then she was beginning to laugh, because okay, it was embarrassing and weird and gross, but... all of this was embarrassing and weird, and honestly all the crying had been kinda gross, with all the snot. 

So why the fuck not?

... she was possibly bordering on hysterical from the jet lag and the various types of emotional ups and downs that she'd been dealing with. 

"Oh," said Arlan. "Well, uh... it could be argued that you were young _er_ , so technically it could count as "young," right?"

She laughed harder, clutching at her sides, and she was panting, rocking back and forth. 

"Are you okay?"

He rested a hand on her shoulder, light as a snowflake, and the touch melted away as soon as she sat up fully. 

"Yeah," she said. "This is just... this isn't how I imagined stuff would be like, if we were to look back into past-Ellie's mind."

"What would past Ellie be expecting?"

"To be cuddling with my boyfriend," Ellie said, without thinking. 

Arlan nodded.

"Well," he said, "hopefully, you'll be there in not too long!"

"I hope so," said Ellie. 

"We've got some time until we hit the city, if you'd like to have a bit of a nap."

She paused.

He seemed pretty trustworthy. 

... if he was going to ax murder her or something like that, he probably would have done it already.

So she sighed, burrowing into her seat, pulling the hood of her sweater over her eyes and began to slow her breathing, letting the exhaustion overtake her.

The sun was already making its way towards the horizon, and it was shining in her eyes. 

* * *

“Ellie?”

There was a hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently. 

She sat up, rubbing her eyes. 

They were by a canal, in front of a row house.

It had started to get dim, and the clouds were starting to mass together, like something out of a horror movie.

“Hm?”

“We’re here,” he said. 

“Oh,” said Ellie, and she sat up, rubbing her eyes, trying to get her bearings, more or less. 

And panic seized her in a vice. 

Fuck. 

What was she going to say now?

“Ellie? Are you okay?”

His voice was quiet. 

“I’m… I’m scared,” she said thickly. 

“What are you scared of?”

Arlan’s voice was from a long way off.

“What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Well… then he’s a jerk,” said Arlan. 

That wasn’t the answer she had expected - she wasn’t sure _what_ answer she had expected, honestly. 

“You think?”

“I think,” he said. 

“Right,” said Ellie. 

“Do you want me to wait for you?”

“Wait for me?”

He shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed.

“You know. In case anything goes wrong?”

“Do you think anything would go wrong?”

Arlan looked slightly embarrassed.

“I, uh, I tend to overthink these kinds of things. You know?” He was rubbing his hands together, looking self conscious. “But I’m also the kind of guy who practices his fast food orders before he makes them.”

“Right,” said Ellie. “That makes sense.” 

“Does it?”

“I mean,” said Ellie, and she giggled, just a little bit, “I dunno. You come off as all calm and collected. There’s something nice to know that you still get anxious.”

“Do you want me to give you my phone number?”

He was blushing.

“Sure,” she said. 

“If, uh, if you want someone to show you around or anything. Since I’m from around here. I live on the other side of town, but I do, uh… live in town.”

He was writing something down, onto a random napkin, and handing it to her.

There hands brushed against each other, and she flushed, so hard that her head was almost throbbing. 

Oh. 

Okay.

She got out of the car, and she got her bag from the back seat. 

She glanced over her shoulder, and she saw Arlan on his phone, paging through something or other. 

She took a deep breath, and she walked up to the door, and rang the doorbell. 

* * *

Arlan sat in his car, and he questioned what he was doing with his life.  
He met some… random American girl, and agreed to help her out.

_Why?_

He could have given her money to take a cab and send her on her way.

Not just… sitting here and watching her stand on the front porch of her boyfriend.

He was probably going to go down as “that weirdo that I met on my way to the airport.”

He was watching her back - the sweater and the hair were just… they were _so_ bright. 

They got brighter, as the door opened, and there was light shining on her. 

He should have been driving away - this wasn’t his circus, this wasn’t his monkeys, to borrow the delightful expression he’d read somewhere. 

But he was just… staying here.

And then there was shouting.

He didn’t understand what the shouting was - everything was a bit muffled -, but he was out of the car before he could really think about it, and then he was standing behind Ellie, and now he could hear things.

"I'll have you locked up!" 

There was a woman standing on the threshold of the house, and she was screaming at Ellie. 

Arlan couldn't see Ellie's face, but her shoulders were shaking.

"Excuse me?"

He stood next to Ellie, and he put a hand on her shoulder.

The woman - she was an older woman, on the short side - was shouting in Danish, and Ellie was shaking.

"Excuse me?"

Ellie looked over at him - he was speaking Danish, and he was trying to put on a winning smile.

"This... person is telling me that my son said she could stay here for three weeks!"

"What is she saying?"

Ellie looked up at Arlan, her face open and nervous. 

"She's saying that her son said you could say," said Arlan. "I'm sorry," he told the woman, who was presumably Lars's mother. "She doesn't speak any Danish."

"He didn't tell me that he lived with his mother," said Ellie. 

Arlan translated that, and the woman's scowl got even more fierce.

"He's sixteen! Where else would he live?"

... Arlan had to pause, but then he translated it. 

At which point Ellie started crying again - she seemed to cry at the drop of a hat, and Arlan had to fight the urge to wrap an arm around her shoulders.

The woman, clearly angry, and then she closed the door in their faces.

"I'll call the police if you're not gone in five minutes," the woman yelled through the door.

"Come on," said Arlan, and he kept his arm around Ellie's shoulders, carefully leading her towards the car. "It's okay. I promise, it's okay."

She was crying the way she had at the airport, and when he cautiously let go of her shoulders, she looked up at him, her eyes red in the dim light, her nose running. 

"Oh, honey," Arlan said, and he hugged her tightly, his hand on the back of her head, and she cried into his shoulder as he rocked her carefully, his hand in the back of her head.

He was murmuring soothing words in her ear as she cried into his shirt - he was probably going to have a wet spot on his shoulder.

"Shhh, it's okay," he said, and he hadn't realized he'd said in Danish. "It's okay," he said again, in English this time. "It's okay. I promise. It'll be okay."

She pulled back, and she looked up at him. 

... he wanted to kiss her.

He wanted to press his lips against hers, and to feel the click of her lip ring against his lower lip.

He'd never kissed someone with a facial piercing before.

"How about... how about we go to my apartment? We can sort this out. Okay?"

"O... okay," she mumbled, and she sniffled. "I'm so sorry for putting you out like this. It's such a... it's all such a mess. I'm sorry. I shouldn't... I mean...."

"Shhh," said Arlan, and he hugged her again, as she pressed her face back into his shoulder. "Shh, it's okay. It'll be okay."

She sighed, leaning against him, and she was so _warm_.

It had been a long time since he'd held a woman this close. 

Certain bits of his anatomy was noticing just how warm she was, and how soft she was against him.

Oh _god_.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"It's okay," he said. "I promise. Now... you ready to get in the car?"

"Yeah," she said, and she sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm being such a baby about this."

"You're really not," said Arlan. "I mean... I can't say that I've ever been in this kind of situation, because I haven't. But I've been in bad places before, and I promise you, it's not as bad as it seems."

"... I traveled all the way to a foreign country where I don't speak the language, to see a guy who I thought was an adult who is actually a teenager. God, does this make me a pedophile?"

"I don't think it makes you a pedophile," said Arlan. "But how about we get in the car, we can go to my apartment, figure things out from there?"

... holy fuck, he sounded like an ax murderer. 

Oh god.

"Or we can, uh, I'm sure we could find you a hostel," he added. 

Wait, wasn't that a horror movie too?

Oh god.

He didn't know about horror movies - he was too much of a wuss for that kind of thing.

But Ellie was sighing, and she was looking up at him with her reddening eyes.

"Could I... could I stay with you? Just a little bit. Maybe the night, until I can figure out where I'm going?"

"Of course," said Arlan. "You're always welcome in my home."

That was... a big promise to make.

Oh god.

Maybe _she_ was an ax murderer, and he'd end up on the news. 

Local man, murdered by American tourist.

Did people even ax murder anymore?

“Arlan?” 

“Sorry,” said Arlan, and he smiled at her, his expression a bit nervous. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I’m… I don’t know,” said Ellie. “I’m so sorry to be putting you out.”

“You’re really not,” said Arlan. “I live alone. It’ll be nice to have some company.”

“Right,” said Ellie, and she gave a long, watery sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“No more sorries,” Arlan told her. “It’s okay. I promise.”

She sighed again, and leaned against him.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice quiet.

“Of course,” he said, and he gave her a squeeze, then let her go. “Do you, uh, want to get some food?”

“Yeah, that’d be a good idea,” she said. “I haven’t really eaten any real food… since I was on the plane.”

“Let’s get you some food,” said Arlan, and he opened the passenger side door, to help her into the car.

She slid in, buckled herself in, and the seat belt pulled between her breasts.

He tried not to stare.

He was a little lonely, a little skin hungry, that was true, but… he as _not_ going to ogle some poor woman stuck in a country where she didn't’ even know the language.

He slid into his side of the car, and he started the car.

“Look at it this way,” he said. “It’s… unfortunate, but now you’ve got a funny story to tell.”

She sighed, and she closed her eyes.

“I just feel so stupid,” she said. “I can’t believe I fell for all of that.”

Arlan shrugged.

“People have probably done stupider stuff than that,” he said. 

“I know that logically,” she said, as they drove away from the canal, “but illogically, I feel like the most gullible person in the world. I don’t think I can afford a ticket back to the US - I’ve got a round trip ticket, but I don’t know what I’ll do for the three weeks.”

“Did you have any specific plans for what you were going to do with Lars?”

“We were going to go sightseeing,” she mumbled, wiping her eyes. “And cook. He said he liked to cook.”

“I like to cook,” said Arlan. “And… worst case scenario, I can show you around a bit. I work from home, so it’s not like you’ll just be stuck in my apartment on your own. If you want to stay with me for the three weeks.”

“I need to… I need to think about it,” she mumbled, and she covered her face with both hands. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing,” Arlan said, and he reached out cautiously, took her hand into his.

Her hands were very small - she wasn’t a small woman my any means, but she had tiny, tiny hands.

They were also cold - he squeezed one, and she looked at him, her expression startled.

He made to pull his hand back, but he squeezed her cold fingers. 

“We can eat some food and talk about options,” he said, as he drove on. “Okay?” 

“Okay,” she said, and she watched the world go by outside her window.

* * * 

Arlan lived in small apartment building - maybe three stories up. 

He was on the top floor, and they trooped up the steps.

He was wearing clompy, shoes,and they were loud as they went up the steps.

She was wearing a pair of canvas high top sneakers, and they were bright red - she stared at them, as the two of them walked up the stairs.

They were wood, and they creaked quietly.

The whole building was pretty quiet, honestly. She could hear the murmur of conversation in the background, and someone else was playing some kind of video game.

“Sorry - I didn’t realize I’d have company, or I would have cleaned up a bit more,” said Arlan, and he was toeing out of his shoes.

He had a large, cream colored rug on the floor of his living room, and it looked so soft.

Another wave of exhaustion hit Ellie, and she swayed on her feet.

“Oh geez,” said Arlan. “Okay. C’mon. Let’s… sit you down….”

He led her, carefully, to the chair against the wall.

She sank down into it, and she sighed, a long, heartfelt sound. 

She looked down at her feet - they looked to be about a million miles away, and she was going to have to lean forward to take them off.

… she was going to fall asleep if she leaned forward. 

“Ellie?”

Arlan’s voice was still coming from a long way up, and she looked up at him.

“Do you need help?”

His voice was gentle. 

“... I’m already putting you out,” she said, her voice still thick. 

“You’re not,” he said, and he was crouching in front of her, his hands on her ankle, gently. 

He had such big hands. 

“I need to take my shoes off,” she mumbled.

He set to work, carefully untying her shoes, pulling it off, and then he looked up at her and smiled.

“Your socks have kittens on them!”

“... Lars said he liked these socks,” she said. “I sent him a picture.”

And then there was a fresh round of tears, and then he was wrapping his arms around her, holding her closer to him, rubbing her back and making soothing noises. 

“We can take the socks off,” he said, and she nodded, clutching at his shirt. 

“And we can give you some food, and we can go to bed.”

“We can go to bed?”

She was giggling into the side of his neck, and he was so warm - he smelled like soap, like cologne, like himself. 

“That’s, uh, that’s not what I meant,” he said, and he made to disentangle himself.

She kept holding on to him - when had been the last time she’d touched someone else like this?

She’d been skin hungry - skin _starving_ \- and that was one reason why she’d bonded with Lars the way she had. 

… urgh, maybe it was better not to think about that.

“So,” said Arlan, and he sat back on his heels, looking up at her with those big blue eyes of his, “before anything else… I should tell you… I’m not an ax murderer.” 

“I’m not an ax murderer either,” said Ellie.

“I mean,” said Arlan. “If there was an axe, I feel like I’d have been able to tell that it was in your suitcase.”

“Do you need an ax to be an ax murderer? Or is it all in the method?”

“I… don’t know,” said Arlan. “People just say “ax murderer,” without specifying things.” 

“Maybe the “ax” part of the “ax murderer” is the thing,” said Ellie.

“Well, “ said Arlan, “regardless of murderers, ax or otherwise, I’m not one. And… if you ever feel afraid, the number for the police is 1-1-2.”

“1-1-2,” Ellie echoed back at him. 

“Good girl,” said Arlan, and he looked slightly embarrassed at himself, right after he said it.

She flushed as well, and she smiled at him.

Then her stomach growled.

“Well,” said Arlan, “maybe we should eat dinner.” 

“I can give you some money for food,” she said quickly. 

She was supposed to be a good guest.

“No, don’t worry about it,” he said, making vague shooing motions. “I hope you like pasta salad.”

“... what, like pasta with mayo? Like what’d you have at a picnic?”

“We don’t just use them for picnics,” he told her, and then he was untying her other shoe.

He pinched the tip of her sock, and he pulled it off. 

She wriggled her toes, and then he was looking down at her feet, grinning.

“You painted your toenails!”

That was a level of delight that she hadn’t been expecting. 

“I, uh, I like nail polish,” she said, and she curled her toes against the soles of her feet.

“That’s good,” he said. “How about you go wash your hands, I’ll get dinner ready?”

“That sounds like a good plan,” she said. “Where’s the bathroom?”

* * * 

Arlan made dinner.

He whistled as he made dinner, because he was used to being alone, and making noises to fill the empty space was an old habit that was hard to break.

Ellie came out of the bathroom, and her bare feet slapped on the hardwood, then went silent as she passed over the hardwood.

... crap.

"Are your feet cold?"

He set the bowl of pasta onto the kitchen table, and he watched her walk towards him.

She'd taken off the blue sweater as well - her t-shirt had pictures of narwhals with spiraling, rainbow tusks.

"Oh," she said, and she looked down at her feet, curling them together.

She had adorable feet.

He wanted to hold them in his hand, kiss the tips of her toes, kiss the tops of her feet.

He just... wanted to touch her in general.

She was so _warm_ \- he hadn't realized just how much he missed the warmth of human contact.

She was warm, and she smelled nice. 

... he needed to get back on the dating scene, if he was panting over someone like this when he hadn't even known them for eight hours.

"I don't have an extra pair of slippers," he said, his tone apologetic, "but I do have some nice, thick socks."

"I'll be okay," she said, and she yawned, wide and cavernously. 

"You look asleep on your feet," he said, his tone sympathetic. 

"I feel asleep on my feet," he told her. "It all feels kind of... surreal right now."

"I can understand that feeling," he said. "But there's food, if you'd like some."

"Right," she said. "Pasta salad. Although in the US, we don’t usually put… you know, ham or whatever in it. Or at least, my family didn’t.”

"So you don't eat it much in the US?"

"I mean," she said, and she sat down heavily, "we do, but usually as a side dish."

"Huh," said Arlan.

He set a glass of water next to her plate, and she took a long, gulping draft of it.

He tried not to watch the way her throat was moving.

"We don't do a lot of... cold dishes as a main dish," said Ellie, and she took a forkful of food, then began chewing it. 

"No?"

"No. In the US, usually the main food is hot, in some form or another."

And then he was chuckling, because all he could think about was that one furry porn magazine that his friend had sent him.

"What's so funny?"

"Um," he said, and then he was stuck, because, uh... how do you tell a nice lady who is staying at your apartment (not entirely by choice) that she just reminded you of a furry porn publication?

"Are you okay? You're turning all red."

"Yeah, I feel okay," he said, and he took a slug of water. "There's, uh... there's a furry publication of, um... of an adult nature. And it's called _Hot Dish_."

Ellie's whole face lit up - she was laughing. 

She was full on ugly laughing, leaning back in her chair, panting up at the sky.

"Dare I ask what's so funny?"

"I'm... mm...." She took a deep breath. "I have family in, uh, in Minnesota," she said. "And hot dish is what they call a certain kind of casserole."

"Is it?"

"Yeah," she said. "But, uh... also, a "dish" is a slang English term for someone who's good looking."

Arlan grinned in spite of himself, because the pun was finally hitting him.

"I think it's published in Minnesota," he told her. "Or at least, the publishing company is based out of there."

"That makes sense," she said. 

"I'm sorry I'm just... talking about furry porn to you."

"It's all good," she said. "Are you a furry?"

"I mean," he said, as he tried to formulate his answer, "I'm not... not a furry."

"What's your fursona?"

"I don't know," said Arlan.

"Maybe we should figure it out," she said, and she was looking sidelong at him.

... if he hadn't known better, he'd have thought that she was flirting with him. 

But no, he was reading too into things. 

He had a bad habit of that.

"Do you have a fursona?"

"Nah," she said. 

"What would you want it to be? If you could be any animal, I mean?"

"... being a narwhal would be pretty awesome, I won't lie," she said, indicating her t-shirt.

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah," she said, and she was grinning a little dreamily now. "It'd be nice to... you know, swim like that."

"What would a narwhal dentist be like?"

That just kind of... came out of his mouth.

That was probably an awkward thing to say.

Crap. 

But Ellie’s face was breaking into a huge grin, and she was leaning back in her chair and cackling - cackling so hard her face was turning bright red, and Arlan was legitimately worried about her possibly choking from laughing too hard.

“Ellie? Ellie, you need to breathe.”

She gave a feeble thumbs up, and she was still laughing.

“... was it that funny?”

It hadn’t seemed that funny, but then again, maybe he’d accidentally knocked himself into an American pop culture reference he just didn’t know about. 

“Not even,” she gasped, and she was finally getting her breath back, as she panted like she’d been running a race. 

He got up, handed her another glass of water, and she gulped it down.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m just… you know. I think that I’m running on fumes, and I’m on the very end of those fumes.”

“That would make sense,” he said. “You wanna finish your food, take a shower, and then go to bed?”

“Isn’t it a bit early? To go to bed, I mean.”

Arlan shrugged.

“After the day you’ve had… I’d say that you’ll probably sleep until a reasonable hour.”

“And tomorrow we can sort out things like a hostel and whatnot?”

He nodded, trying to fight off the unease that was settling in the pit of his gut. 

She was… she was so sweet.

He didn’t want to think about her being stuck in some hostel, by herself.

He sighed, and he took a bite of his food.

“So, um, would you be okay with me crashing on your couch?”

“You take the bed,” he said, his tone firm. “You’re the guest.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“If nothing else, you’ve been in a plane seat all day,” he said. “That can’t be comfortable.”

“... I can’t really argue with that,” she said, “but I feel like I should.”

He grinned at her in spite of himself, and she smiled back at him.

* * * 

They finished their dinner. 

Ellie was practically falling asleep at the table, her eyes at half mast. 

“Do you need help figuring out how the shower goes?”

Ellie blinked at him, trying to make sense of what he was saying.

“It’s a shower,” she said. “They can’t be that different.”

“It’s kind of different from the way showers work in the US,” he told her.

“Have you been to the US?”

“Oh yeah,” he said. “It was pretty nice.”

“I like it too,” she agreed, and then she giggled, and yawned again.

“Are you sure you want to shower?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “I smell like plane.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “So let me show you how the shower works….”

She followed after him, and she took the towel that he pulled out of his linen closet, holding it to her chest.

His laundry detergent was strong enough that she could smell it, even now, and it was a soft, familiar smell.

It was kind of funny - laundry detergent was a thing that didn’t seem to change, regardless of where you went.

Oh, there were variations on the theme, but… for the most part, it was all similar.

“So the knobs are a little dumb,” he told her, as they both stood in his small bathroom.

They were close enough together that his hip was against hers.

God, but he was warm.

She had been looking forward to being warm - to having someone so close to her.

… god, she was such an idiot for falling for all of that business with Lars.

Assuming it didn’t turn her into some kind of creepy pedophile.

She’d shown him pictures of her breasts… god.

“So that’s how the shower works,” said Arlan.

“Right,” said Ellie. 

She hadn’t been paying attention, but how hard could it be?

* * * 

Arlan was sitting in his living room, and there was a naked girl in his bathroom.

He was trying not to think too hard on that.

What did her nipples look?

He could tell that she had been cold - her nipples had been poking through her bra and her t-shirt. 

They looked soft, heavy - he wanted to hold them in his hands.

… fuck, no, he needed to stop thinking like this.

He groaned, leaning back into his chair, and he covered his face with both hands. 

His cock stayed hard in his pants.

“Stop that,” he mumbled in Danish.

His cock refused to behave, because of course it did.

Why would it listen to him?

He stroked it, once, gently, through his jeans, and that was… that felt nice.

That felt a lot nicer than it had a right to - the sensation was muffled by the denim of his jeans, but if it had been her hand….

She was probably washing herself right now - she’d brought her own soap with her, and he’d gotten a blast of it when she opened up her toiletries bag.

It smelled like peppermint, and mmm, imagine pressing his face into her neck, smelling that peppermint, her big, soft breasts in his hands, or maybe his hand on her belly….

He moaned, and then he covered his mouth with one hand, looking around guiltily.

It wasn’t like he’d never jerked off in his living room.

Him and his last partner had fucked in this living room a few times. 

But… it felt gross.

He hadn’t met Ellie in a setting that was made for romance - he’d found her crying in the airport, for crying out loud.

And then there was a yelp, and the door slammed open. 

Ellie stood there, panting, looking very, very pink.

She had a towel wrapped around herself, but it was a bit too small - he could see a bit of her dark pubic hair, and the soft overhang of her belly, as well as the long expanse of her thigh. 

He tried not to stare, and put his shirt over his lap quickly.

“Um,” she said, “Hi.”

“Hi,” he said, and then he frowned. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, and she looked embarrassed. “I, um, I got a bit confused. By the way the knobs go, I mean.”

He nodded. 

“Sorry about that,” he said, his tone sheepish. “My shower is kind of dumb.”

“It’s not that dumb,” she said. “I’m just kinda dumb.”

“You’re not dumb,” he told her, aware that he was scolding her, not sure how to stop. “Just because you don’t know how to do something doesn’t necessarily mean you’re stupid.”

She was blushing - or maybe she wasn’t, and she was just overheated from all of the hot water

The shaved parts of her scalp were pink as well - he hadn’t been aware that the scalp could turn pink like that.

What other parts of her were pink?

… oh god, his cock was throbbing harder.

“Do you need my help?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said, and he tried not to look at all of that bare skin.

God, he wanted to take it into his hands….

As soon as Ellie had found out where she was going to go, he was going to find someone.

Maybe he’d even call up his ex - they’d parted amicably enough.

“You should maybe take your socks off,” she told him. “Because, uh, I got the floor all wet. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he told her, but he did take his socks off.

The bathroom was steamy, and it smelled strongly of peppermint. 

It _fugged_ of peppermint - he’d read that once, in a novel. The peppermint scent seemed to be working its way into his sinuses, clearing his head and making it fuzzier at the same time. 

Oh, that was the problem - she must have gotten mixed up about how to turn the knobs.

“It takes a minute or two for the water to warm up,” he told her. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m kinda spoiled by living in New York, I think. The water doesn’t heat up as fast, so it ends up being kinda… I didn’t feel the water turning hot, so I kept turning it hotter….”

“Yeah,” said Arlan.

Her towel was drooping, and he could see the edge of her areola. 

It was a dark, dusky pink.

Oh _god_.

“Well, that’s how you fix it, have a good shower!”

“Thanks,” said Ellie, and then he was practically skidding out of the door, closing it behind him. 

He had to fight the urge to lean back against it and groan.

He was going to have such a wank when he had his own shower.

* * * 

Ellie came out of the bathroom, pink, smelling of peppermint, wrapped in a big t-shirt and a pair of pajama shorts.

Her legs were covered in goosebumps - it was more apparent, since she’d shaved her legs right before she’d gotten on the plane.

Oh god.

She didn’t want to think about that.

She’d imagined someone’s hands running up her legs - warm hands, smoothing away the goosebumps. 

… Arlan had nice hands, when it came down to it.

What would it be like to have them up her legs?

Some of the blood left her feet, went to her face, and she was aware, in a distant sort of way, that she was blushing.

“You must like hot showers,” Arlan said.

“Sorry,” said Ellie. “I kinda steamed up your bathroom.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Arlan said quickly. “I like the way your soap smells - very peppermint!”

“Yeah,” Ellie said. “It makes me feel all tingly.”

“Tingly is good,” Arlan said.

He was looking at her breasts - she could feel it. 

The shirt she was wearing was low cut, or at least, low cut enough that he could see the tops of her breasts. 

Her nipple rings were probably poking out through the fabric of it as well - the silver was usually pretty noticeable, when she wore a light color.

Had he noticed them?

Oh god, did she want him to notice them?

She sighed, and she stood there, her feet sinking into his thick, cream colored rug.

“You look dead on your feet,” he told her.

“I kinda feel it,” she said. “Are you sure you’ll be okay on your couch?”

“Oh yeah,” said Arlan. “I’ve fallen asleep on it often enough.”

“Well,” she said, “if you’re sure.”

“I am,” he said, and he gave her an encouraging smile. “You should go sleep. Get yourself on the right sleep schedule, more or less.”

She yawned, wide enough that her jaw cracked, and he winced.

“That sounded painful.”

“Some parts of me just kinda… pop a lot,” she said. “My mom used to call me her own little Rice Krispy.”

He looked at her, his expression blank.

“... you know, the cereal?”

“I don’t think we have it here,” said Arlan. “Why would she call you a cereal?”

“Oh! The, uh, they’re made of puffed rice, right? So when they get wet, they go “snap, crackle, pop.” It was a big part of the ad campaign.”

“Oh! Yeah, that makes sense,” he said. 

“Yeah,” she said.

There was an awkward silence.

She wished that she had a pair of pockets, to jam her hands into.

“Well,” said Arlan, and he cleared his throat, “I’ll let you get to sleep.”

“Right,” she said, and then she looked down at him, and she gave him a slightly nervous smile. “Would you like a hug?”

“Oh, certainly,” he said, and he stood up, opening his arms up for her. 

She hugged him, and they were pressed close enough together that she could feel the warmth, emanating from his body. 

He smelled so nice, and his heart was beating very hard.

She sighed, relaxing into him, and then he was withdrawing.

Wait a minute.

Was that….

She was almost entirely certain that he had a boner.

Either he had a boner, or else he had his phone shoved in his pocket.

Maybe she’d been too trusting. 

Although Arlan hadn’t been anything but gentlemanly so far.

And sometimes bodies just… did things.

God knew her own body did things that she didn’t agree with. 

And it wasn’t like a boner would turn a perfectly polite, courteous guy into a slavering beast.

… right?

“Sleep well,” said Arlan, and he gave her another squeeze, and let her go.

“Night,” said Ellie, and she made her way into the bedroom, shutting the door behind herself.

* * * 

Arlan lay on his couch, in his jeans.

His pajamas were still under his pillow.

Goddamnit.

His cock was still hard, too - how was he going to deal with that?

He couldn’t just… whip it out, here and now in the living room. 

What if Ellie came out, and she saw him jerking himself off? 

… he could take a shower.

Not that he usually took showers at night, but still.

He could make an except, to deal with the ridiculous hard on.

* * *

Arlan jerked off in his own shower, his eyes squeezed shut. 

His hand stroked his cock, from the root to the head, pulling his foreskin back, and he humped into his hand, panting open mouthed, trying not to moan too hard.

His eyes were squeezed tightly together, and he was imagining… he was imagining Ellie, because she was so close by, and the bathroom still smelled like her soap.

God, her eyes… she had such lovely eyes, and he’d never kissed someone with a lip ring before.

Let alone nipple rings.

What would nipple rings be like? A little bit of hardness, amidst the softness of her breasts. Cold metal clacking against his teeth, as he took them into his mouth.

God, her pussy… he’d seen a glimpse of her pussy, right under the overhang of her belly.

Fuck, to press his face right there, kiss it, then kiss down, to lick her clit, suck on it…. 

His hand sped up.

Ellie on his cock, riding him, her forehead pressed against his, and she was laughing - he loved to make people laugh. 

Maybe running his fingers along her sides, wriggling them, and he could tickle her as his cock split her in half, made her cum, her toes curling against his calves as she bounced and laughed.

When she cried, it had looked a little bit like she was laughing, from the way her shoulders had scrunched up, except some small part of him… some small part of him kind of liked the way she looked when she was crying. 

Imagine her spread out, that lovely green hair a halo around her head, as he kissed her tears away and split her in half with his cock, sliding in and out of the hot, sweet wetness between her legs, tasting the salt of her tears and the sweetness of her skin. 

God, just tasting her on his lips would be… it would… oh fuck!

He came, down into the shower drain, pulsing in his own hand, and he sobbed into his fist. 

_Fuck_.

… was he some kind of creep, if he was getting turned on by the way she looked when she was crying?

Crap.

He didn’t want to be a creep.

Then again, he also didn’t want to be someone who perved on the poor stranded American tourist. 

Goddamnit.

He groaned, pressing his face into the tile wall of the shower.

He was the worst kind of creep ever.

Well, okay, no, he was better than the underage kid masquerading as an adult, he was better than that.

“I’ve got better morals than the teenager,” Arlan said quiet, out loud.

The sound of his own voice startled him - he was so used to living on his own. 

But he didn’t want Ellie to hear him - he didn’t want to keep her awake, and he didn’t want her to know that he was masturbating in the first place.

… and he didn’t have anything clean to put on after his shower.

Goddamnit.

He was half tempted to use a little bit of her soap.

Although that would be awkward.

It would be more than awkward - it would be creepy, it would be… wrong. 

Some flavor of disrespectful.

The idea of her wearing his soap was… that was nice.

In weird way - the idea of her smelling like him.

Her wearing his clothes.

God, she’d be sleeping in his bed.

It would smell like her.

He would lie in his bed, and he could smell her.

What would she smell like?

Peppermint, skin… herself.

He sighed, and his cock twitched again.

“No,” he scolded it.

He wasn’t so young that he could get an erection that quickly.

… he could, theoretically, give himself another orgasm, even if he couldn’t get hard again, but… that probably wasn’t a thing that he wanted to do when he wasn’t standing in the shower, no doubt using up all of the hot water.

So he rinsed off, and he got out, drying himself off and making his way towards the couch.

He put his boxers back on - inside out, he wasn’t a complete monster - and then he went to bed.

… well, okay, he went to couch. 

But still. 

It was the principle of the thing, right?

* * * 

Ellie lay in Arlan's bed, trying not to toss and turn too much, and she stared at the ceiling. 

It was a long day.

She hadn't realized just how exhausted she was - hadn't realized that it was so deep into her bones that all she wanted to do was sleep and sleep and sleep. 

Except she couldn't.

Part of it was that she was surrounded by Arlan's scent.

He just... he smelled nice.

Hopefully he liked peppermint.

She sighed, and she snuggled into the warmth of the bed, and let the day's troubles leave her, as sleep closed around her like a great, velvet blanket.

* * * 

Ellie woke up at some unknown hour, her head full of dark sleep, and she was cold.

She wasn't just cold - she was... she was wet.

Wait.

How was she wet?

Had she spilled something?

How had she spilled something on her, in her sleep?

She sat up completely, and the sheets pooled around her.

The sheets were wet.

The sheets were wet, the blanket was wet, all of her was wet, all the way up to her chest.

Oh god.

She was going to... oh fuck.

Had she peed the bed?

She'd been known to pee the bed sometimes, though not often - it had been almost two years since she'd done it.

But she'd done it now, and it was... it wasn't her bed, it was the bed of the nice man who was putting her up, and what was she going to _do_?!

Fuck, she could... she could do laundry.

She could do laundry, maybe tell him that she had sweated too much or something, no harm, no foul, right?

... her shorts were soaked.

Right.

Okay.

Time to pull her shorts off, let them land in a pile on the hardwood in a "splat," and then... oh.

She'd have to mop as well.

But Arlan was sleeping, hopefully.

God willing.

Okay.

So.

Now she was just going to... just mound all of the wet fabric together, into one big pile, and then she could just carry it into the next room - she'd seen the washer/dryer combo in the room off to the side.

It couldn't be too hard, right?

He was sleeping.

She could hear him snoring, faintly. 

Okay.

She stripped the bed, and stripped off her shorts - the shirt was damp at just the hem, and she would just... deal with that later.

She didn't want to have to put on clean clothes, when she was this wet, but she also didn't want to be naked.

She wasn't firing on all cylinders - she was panicking, honestly, well and truly panicking.

The kind of panic that eats all of the senses, leaves one gibbering, and there wasn't anything she could do about it, except to ride the wave.

If nothing else, she could be something like productive, so that was something, right?

She was shaking.

She was shaking, and she was going to start crying, if she wasn't careful, and she knew she couldn't cry... nicely, and if he woke up to find her crying with wet pants... he'd kick her out, she'd be stuck on the streets of Denmark for three weeks, and then what was she going to do?

Fuck.

It wasn't even like she could call home - her parents had made it _very_ clear that if this was the thing that she was going to do, she was damn well going to do it, no matter what.

Her mother had said something to the effect of "I don't care if you come home in a body bag," which had rather gotten the message across.

She tiptoed around Arlan, being careful not to step on his cream colored rug with her wet feet, and then she was... standing in front of his washing machine, in the dim light of the kitchen.

She'd just turned on the light that hung over the sink, and it was overly bright, casting stark shadows over everything.

Okay.

She could do this.

She just needed to... she needed to get things sorted out.

She opened the washing machine, and she shoved the wet bedding into it, carefully. 

Then came her wet shorts - she kept the long shirt on - and she snooped under the sink, looking for the laundry detergent. 

It couldn't be that hard to find it, could it?

Okay. 

There it was.

Okay. 

She could do this.

... where did it load?

She stared at the washing machine, and she tried to read the settings, but all of them were in Danish, and she didn't know how to read Danish, and she was... oh god, no, she was crying.

She was crying, her arms wrapped around herself, and no, she shouldn't have been crying, she should have been dealing with this, oh god, no, she was... she was doing this wrong, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, she needed to calm down, she needed to be rational.

"Ellie?"

* * *

Arlan was woken up from his sleep by someone crying.

Someone crying in his kitchen.

There was a moment, where panic seized him - he lived on his own. What was someone else doing here?

Then the events of yesterday came rushing back, and he sat up fully.

... and wrinkled his nose.

What was that smell?

He made his way into his kitchen, to find... oh god.

Ellie, in a long t-shirt, no pants (he could see the backs of her thighs, oh god) and she was crying.

"Ellie, honey, what's wrong?"

"I... I wet the bed," she managed to sob out.

"Oh," said Arlan, because what else was he going to say?

He hadn't expected that, but... whatever, right?

He could do laundry.

"I'm sorry," Ellie said, and her voice cracked like a china plate.

"Hey," Arlan said, and he kept his voice calm, sweet, if sleepy. "Hey, it's okay. I promise."

He was acutely aware of the fact that he was only wearing a pair of boxer shorts - maybe he should have put on a shirt or... something. 

Oh god.

Okay.

She turned to look at him, and her hair was a wild mess of green around her face, as her nose ran and her eyes went red.

"Oh, honey," Arlan said, his own compassion overcoming his common sense. "Shh, shh...."

He opened his arms up to her, without thinking, and she snuggled in, her face in his shoulder, and she kept crying.

"I'm sorry," she wailed. "I'm sorry, I... I wet the bed sometimes, but I haven't in years, I thought it was just in high stress situations, only apparently not, and you must think I'm the grossest -"

"Breathe," Arlan said, and he kept his tone gentle. "It's alright. I mean it. It's okay. Shh...."

"I'm... I'm the worst," she mumbled, her voice watery.

He rubbed her back, and she sniffled into his neck.

Her shirt was thin enough that he could feel her hard nipples against his chest, and... coldness? 

Did she have nipple piercings?

This was _not_ the time to think about that.

Okay.

"Honey," Arlan said, and he took her face in his hands, so that she was looking him in the eyes.

His hands were big enough that they spanned they spanned it - his palms covered her cheeks, and the tips of his fingers were buried in the hair at her temples.

"Breathe," Arlan said. "Okay?"

"Okay," Ellie mumbled.

He wanted to kiss her so badly, right here and now.

Oh god. 

Okay.

"You are in a stressful situation," he told her, slowly and carefully. "If I was a bedwetter in stressful situations, we'd need a boat to get out of here. If I was in your shoes, I mean."

"I'm not wearing any shoes," Ellie said, her voice all stuffy.

"Well, no," said Arlan. "Why would you be wearing shoes to go to bed?"

Another fresh burst of tears, and her hands were tangled in his hair, holding on tightly.

"Shhh...," Arlan said. "How about you go take another shower, and I'll take care of the laundry?"

Among other things, she'd been about to use dish soap in the washing machine, which would have gone... well, there would have been a lot of suds.

"Are you sure? I peed... I peed a lot."

He shrugged.

"It's just pee," he told her. "I can shower after you do. Okay?"

"Okay."

She sniffled again, and she sighed.

"You must think I'm the biggest baby ever," she said, and she was blushing.

He shrugged.

"I mean," he said, "if I was in your situation, I'd probably be a big baby too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"... okay."

"How about you give me your shirt too, since it's all wet?"

... wait.

That sounded kinda... oh geez.

"I'll turn around," he told her quickly. "Just, uh... I'll face the washer, you can take your shirt off, toss it in with everything else."

"Right," she said. "Won't your neighbors be confused to see a naked girl walking around your living room?"

He shrugged.

"I'm a young bachelor," he said. "And it's nearly three in the morning. If anyone is looking in my windows at this time of night, that's their problem, not mine."

She smiled at him, suddenly shy, and he smiled back at her. 

"Okay," she said, and she was grabbing at the hem of her shirt.

He quickly turned around, facing the washing machine.

There was a beautiful woman getting naked behind him.

There was the sound of soft fabric hitting the floor, and then there was the sound of her walking, the slap of bare feet on the wooden floor.

His cock was already hard enough to be trying to poke through the slot in his boxers.

Oh god.

He didn't need this.

Think unsexy thoughts. 

Okay. 

He took a deep breath, and took in the ammonia and astringent scent of piss.

... which wasn't making his dick go down.

Okay.

He licked his lips, and he loaded the washing machine. 

He could do this.

He could totally do this. 

* * *

Ellie took another shower. 

It was a hot shower - she was sticky, from sleeping in all that piss, and she'd sweated through her shirt as well.

Thank god she'd had the foresight to dye her hair far enough in advance that she didn't need to worry about that.

... she had just walked through a strange man's apartment naked.

A strange man, whose bed she had just pissed.

What the fuck.

When had this become her?

When had her life become... this?

Everything had a slightly surreal edge, but everything had felt surreal since she'd gotten on the plane.

First the strangeness of traveling, because... well, traveling makes everything weird. 

And then there had been arriving, and waiting, and then crying by herself, and meeting Arlan, and the long car ride....

No wonder everything felt so strange.

No wonder she was existing in some strange limbo, some other place that wasn't exactly where she was, but wasn't where she wasn't either.

Was she even making sense, or was she chasing her own mind in circles?

She sighed, turning the shower off - it was only a little bit too hot this time - and then she was coming out, wrapped in a slightly too small towel.

Arlan was in the bedroom, and he was making the bed.

"Good thing I had the mattress protector," he said, his tone cheerful.

"Mattress protector?"

"My, um... my last partner, he tended to sweat a lot," said Arlan. "So I ended up buying a mattress protector, when I got a new mattress." 

“Oh. You’re gay?”

… shit.

She shouldn’t have said that.

“No,” he said. “I’m, uh… I don’t know. I like people in general? I thought I was gay for a while, but… well, then I met Rosy, and from there….”

He shrugged.

“I’m sorry,” Ellie said, and she was blushing so hard that she looked like a Christmas decoration.

“It’s okay,” he said, and he smiled at her, clearly self conscious.

“I wasn’t thinking before I said anything.”

“It’s alright,” he said, and he patted her on the shoulder. 

She was wearing a t-shirt, and a pair of panties.

She was… she was very aware of this fact - the t-shirt was sliding off of one shoulder, and his skin was warm against her own. 

God, she wanted to kiss him so badly right now. 

"Well, I'd best let you get back to sleep," said Arlan, and he patted her on the shoulder, and shuffled out.

Had he looked at her heatedly, or was she just imagining things?

She was probably just thinking too deeply into things - she had a bad history of doing that.

Maybe that was what she had done with Lars - maybe she'd....

No, now she was overthinking it.

Lars had very clearly talked to her, said he loved her, said a bunch of other things.

And it was her own fault for not following up on things like voice chat, but it wasn't her fault otherwise.

She sighed, and she got back into bed.

These didn't smell as much like Arlan, but they were still warm and dry.

She could faintly hear the dryer in the kitchen, a steady, quiet thumping, and it was calming.

She sighed again, and she burrowed down into the blankets, and let her eyes drift shut.

Regardless of whatever else was happening, right here and now, things were okay.

Arlan had been flustered, but he wasn't angry at her, and that was the important thing.

* * *

Arlan lay on his couch, wrapped in a blanket, and he tried to think unsexy thoughts.

He'd grabbed a pair of pajama pants from his drawers while she was in the bathroom showering, and now he was just... lying here.

His fingers didn't still smell like her pee, and he was almost sad about it - there had been an intense quality to it, something that was poking... something in his head.

But for now... now he was going to sleep.

He shifted on the couch, and he sighed. 

It wasn't as comfortable as he thought it would be.

Okay.

Sleep.

He could do this.

People slept all the time.

He could be one of them.

... wow, way to make himself sound like a space alien.

He grinned at himself, just a bit, in spite of himself, and he yawned, then let his eyes drift shut.

This would all work out.

* * *

Ellie woke up dry - thank god - and surrounded by the faintly spicy scent of Arlan's aftershave, and the sound of Arlan rattling around the kitchen.

She didn't even think about putting on a pair of pajama pants or anything like that - she just went out into the main room.

Arlan was wearing blue checkered pajama pants and a white tank top, and he looked so inexplicably dorky that her heart swelled, just a little bit.

... goddamnit, she needed to stop falling at the drop of a hat. 

She was an adult.

Adults didn't just fall in love with whoever was nice to them.

"You're up!"

Arlan smiled at her. 

He had freckles on his shoulders, and more of that gingery blond hair lightly dusted along his back.

How would it feel, under her fingers.

"Hi," said Ellie, and she smiled at him, self conscious.

She was acutely aware of her lack of pants.

But he wasn't making a big deal about it, so she wasn't going to make a big deal about it, either.

"I should cook something for you, as a thank you for letting me crash with you," said Ellie.

"Think nothing of it," said Arlan. "It's honestly nice to have the company."

"Are you lonely?"

... nice one, Ellie.

Why not just say "I think you're a pathetic lonely loser" to the guy who was letting her stay with him?

"Yeah, I guess I kind of am," said Arlan, his expression thoughtful. "I usually try to keep busy so I don't feel it too hard."

"Oh," said Ellie.

"So," said Arlan, all business, "how do you like your eggs?"

"Oh. Um, however you do 'em," said Ellie.

"There are a lot of ways to make eggs," said Arlan. "Do you like runny yolks? Scrambled?"

"Runny yolks are good," Ellie said. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You're the guest," said Arlan. "Don't worry about it, okay?"

"I feel guilty just sitting here," Ellie said, and she tried to keep the whine out of her voice.

"You wanna make toast?"

"Sure," said Ellie. "I can totally do that."

"There's bread in the bread box," said Arlan.

"Right," said Ellie, and she slid into the kitchen next to him.

They were almost hip to hip, and she could feel the warmth of his body, so close to her own.

Oh god.

There was a loaf of bread, wrapped in plastic, but it wasn't sliced.

"Where is your, uh, cutting board?"

"Next to the microwave," said Arlan, as he cracked eggs into a pan.

"Right," she said, and she took them out from alongside the microwave. "And your bread knife?"

"Hanging from the metal strip," he told her, indicating it.

"Oh. Right. Duh."

"My mother wants to get me a set of ceramic knives," Arlan said, as he cracked an egg into the pan, "but I don't know where I'd keep them."

Ellie cut two thick slices of rye bread, then looked for the toaster.

... she should have looked for the toaster before she did anything else, come to think of it. 

"Where's your toaster?"

Arlan indicated a random, silvery piece of equipment.

"Right," said Ellie. "Of course."

That seemed simple enough, except... it was all in Danish.

Goddamnit.

"Um, Arlan?"

"Mmm?"

"How do I make this work?"

"Don't worry about it," Arlan said. "You're the guest, like I said. You're already gifting me with your presence.'

"I should at least do _something_ for you," said Ellie, but she let herself be ushered to go sit at the table, leaning back into her chair.

She was still tired, foggy headed. 

Then her ears caught up with her brain. 

"Wait, ceramic knives?"

"Yeah," said Arlan. "They're apparently the latest fancy thing when it comes to cooking. But... well, the magnetic strip is pretty handy. I don't know where else I'd keep my knives."

"I had an uncle who used to keep his knives on the inside of a cabinet," Ellie said. "On a magnetic strip, I mean. And then the magnet started failing, and it, uh... opening up the cabinet became a game of Russian Roulette." 

“... that sounds unpleasant,” said Arlan, and he gave a bit of a shiver.

“I figured out how to open up a cabinet with a broomstick. It was exciting, I can tell you that.” 

"It sounds it," said Arlan. 

"So I was thinking I could look at a few hostels today, maybe the American embassy. See if there was someplace I could stay.

Ellie was blushing, staring at her toast.

The rye bread was sharp, and the contrast with the almost sweet butter was some kind of perfect. 

"You can stay as long as you need to," Arlan said, and he sounded like he was trying to be reassuring.

"I don't want you to feel like -"

"I like the company," Arlan said, and he was blushing. "I mean, uh, obviously, I want to help it, but some of it is just a selfish motivation on my own part. I'm... I'm kind of lonely, and it's nice to have the company."

"Oh," said Ellie.

She looked momentarily nonplussed.

"Sorry," Arlan said, and he was blushing.

"No, no, it's okay," Ellie said quickly. "I can, uh, I can stay around for a bit, at least."

"Right," said Arlan. "So what do you want to do today?"

"I'm... honestly not sure," said Ellie. "Is there anything that you'd like to do?"

"Well, I'm off from work," said Arlan. "But if you want to do something fun, we could always just wander around town a bit?"

"That sounds like fun."

"We could drive into the city if you'd like, wander around a little bit."

"... this is gonna sound really silly, but would you think I was weird if I said I'd like to go grocery shopping?"

"Why would I find that silly?"

"I dunno," said Ellie. "I know a lot of folks find that kinda thing weird."

"I do need to go grocery shopping anyway," said Arlan. "Would you want to go to the park as well?"

"That sounds like a good plan," said Ellie, and she stretched, her back arching.

When she opened her eyes again, she caught sight of Arlan - he was looking at her with a look that could almost be read as fervent.

Um.

She wasn't sure how to respond to that.

"I'm gonna get dressed," she told him. "I'll be right back."

"No worries," said Arlan, and he leaned back into his chair.

* * *

God, her _thighs_ \- he could write poetry to her thighs. 

Long, elaborate poetry.

Arlan puttered around the kitchen - he washed his dishes, and then he sat on his couch and fiddled around on his laptop.

Okay. 

How was she so fucking gorgeous?

How was he already so infatuated with someone who he had only just met?

He had been known to fall pretty hard for people, but... oh geez.

Okay. 

He could do this.

He could _totally_ do this.

* * *

Ellie got dressed.

She debated what to wear - maybe a nice pair of jeans and a t-shirt?

But... no.

She was going to dress nicely. 

Not like, nicely-nicely.

Not the kind of nicely that would look out of place.

But a long, patchwork peasant skirt and a red blouse... that would look nice, right?

She finished it off with a pair of sky blue tights. 

Admittedly, with the green hair, she would look a bit like a Christmas ornament, but fuck it.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror, and she frowned.

The sides of her head were already getting fuzzy. 

She was going to have to ask Arlan to help her buzz her head.

... if he was okay with that.

Maybe that was too much to ask.

... what even would be too much to ask? Versus enough to ask?

She sighed again, and then she came out of the bedroom, licking her lips.

Her lip ring clicked against her teeth. 

"Oh," said Arlan when he saw her.

"Sorry, am I... do I look okay?"

She ran her hands across the tops of her thighs, smoothing out the multicolored material. 

"You look amazing," he told her, and there was a fervent authenticity in his voice that made her blush, just a little bit.

"Thank you," she said, and she was blushing. 

"I'll just, uh...hold on."

He licked his lips, and then he was sliding into the bedroom, to get dressed.

* * * 

They went grocery shopping, and it was... it was normal.

It was almost alarmingly normal.

She leaned in to him, as he explained to her in earnest the different types of things like liver paste, which wasn't exactly a thing that she agreed with on principle, but... well, she was up for trying new things.

She was greatly amused by the sight of Pop Tarts in the "imports" aisle.

It was the only stuff that she could really read the label on.

Everyone around her was speaking Danish, which... well, made sense, all things considered, but still. 

She wasn't entirely sure why she expected everyone to be speaking anything _other_ than Danish. 

But she didn't really understand anything that anyone was saying, and she was... weirdly okay with it. 

She wasn't sure why. 

Usually, she liked to know what was going on at all times, to be up to date.

She didn't like feeling like she looked dumb. 

But being here, like this... it was okay.

It was all okay. 

Something about Arlan just... made her feel safe, although fucked if she could put her finger on why.

When the two of them were in the park together, eating sandwiches, she let her leg rest against his, and he had blushed, but he'd kept it there.

Maybe... maybe there was going to be some nice intimacy in all of this after all.

Okay. 

She just had to... play it cool.

Make sure that she didn't fuck it up too badly.

Even Ellie could do that, right?

* * *

"Would you wanna go to a bar with me?"

Arlan was looking slightly embarrassed, as he went to put away the dishes.

They had pasta salad again - there had been leftovers, and Arlan had offered to make her something new, but... well, she didn't want to waste any food.

They had the makings for something tomorrow - she'd offered to make him something nice.

Hopefully it would turn out well!

But that was a problem for later.

Right now, Arlan was sitting across from her, and he was blushing very, very hard. 

"Sure," said Ellie. "I don't have a lot of experience with bars, admittedly."

"No?"

"I'm... not technically allowed to drink in the US," said Ellie, and she was only blushing a little bit.

Arlan's expression went worried for a moment.

"How old are you?"

"I'm twenty," she said. 

"Oh," said Arlan. 

"Sorry," said Ellie. 

"... what are you apologizing for?"

He looked genuinely confused.

"For making it awkward, I guess," she said. "Or for being so young."

"... you're apologizing to me for being young," said Arlan, as if he was trying to understand what it was that she had said."

"Yeah," said Ellie.

"Ellie," Arlan said, and he sounded... genuinely sad. "Ellie, you don't ever have to apologize to me for who you are, okay?"

"Okay," said Ellie. 

There were... there were feelings, welling up in the middle of her chest, and she didn't entirely understand what they were. 

"So you wanna go?"

"Sure," said Ellie, "but you'll have to do all the talking."

"I'm okay with that," said Arlan. "If you are, I mean."

"I am totally fine with that," said Ellie, and she blushed.

... truth be told, there was honestly something nice about it. 

He made her feel safe, in a way that she didn't entirely understand, except for the fact that it made her happy.

"That's good," said Arlan. "I've got a good bar on the corner."

"Sounds good," said Ellie. "Do I need to... you know, put on makeup, or change my clothes or something?"

Arlan shrugged. 

"I think you look perfect," he said, and he sounded like he meant it.

Oh god.

Ellie blushed, and she looked down at the table.

God, he had the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen. 

She wanted to look into those eyes as she sank down onto his cock.

... okay, wow.

She didn't usually feel things quite so... viscerally. 

Or so intensely. 

She licked her lips - she'd have to do something about this, one way or another. 

She'd just have to wait until she was schnockered enough. 

Okay.

She could do this.

She could totally do this.

* * * 

The bar was pretty empty, and they ended up sitting in a booth together.

It was a circular booth, and they were sitting across from each other. 

Ellie had a beer in front of her - she'd drunk half of it. 

Liquid courage.

Okay.

"You know," Ellie said, speaking up to be heard above the noise, "you're really cute."

Arlan... blushed.

Blushed from his cheeks all the way to his ears, and damn if that wasn't the cutest things she'd ever seen.

Her heart was beating so fast that it was going to escape her chest and go shlorping down the street.

"Thank you," said Arlan.

"I'd like to sit closer to you," Ellie plunged on, because, fuck it. 

She took another slug of her beer - it was strong, dark, almost bitter.

It had a bit of a kick, but she had an outstanding tolerance, if she did say so herself.

"Yeah? Why?"

"Because I want to," Ellie said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I mean, um," said Arlan. "If... if that's what you'd like, then, uh... sure. Sure. Of course."

She scooted over, until they were hip to him.

She rested her head on his shoulder, and her thigh was pressed right up against his.

"You're really warm," she said, her voice very quiet.

"I mean," Arlan said, and he cleared his throat. "I am... endothermic."

Ellie paused, pulling back to look him in the face.

"I'm trying to seduce you," she told him, because... in for a penny, in for a fucking pound. 

In for a penny, in for a... krone?

"You're _what_?!"

Arlan was turning a darker red.

"You're really cute," Ellie said. "Like... really cute. I like your face a lot. And I know what you look like without any pants, or any shirt. I'd really like to just blow you in the bathroom of this bar, honestly."

Did she?

That wasn't the kind of thing she ordinarily did - not that she wasn't sexually adventurous, oh no.

But usually, she was a bit more... well, she got to know someone a little better first.

Although god, Arlan was so pretty.

"Is this because I'm doing a favor? I mean, I don't want you to feel like you have to... you know, do anything."

"I don't think this is a gas, ass, or grass situation," Ellie told him.

"... what?"

"You know, gas, ass, or grass?"

"No," said Arlan, and his eyebrows were knitting together in a way that was too fucking cute. 

"Oh. Um." Ellie licked her lips. "It's an, uh, it's an American thing. You can't have a ride unless you give gas money, you do a sexual favor, or you have drugs to offer."

"Oh," said Arlan.

"So it doesn't exactly fit with the current... situation, because this isn't a case where there'd be gas. Or drugs. But, um, my ass is up for the offering."

"I feel like I'd be taking advantage of you," Arlan said, although he was holding on to his glass very tightly - his knuckles were turning white.

"If you're... if you're not attracted to me -"

"No, no, that's not it at all," Arlan said quickly. "I find you... I find you quite attractive, make no mistake. You are, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen in my life."

Ellie flushed, and she stared into her beer.

"It's just," Arlan said, "I don't... I know that I'm the only person in Denmark that you really know, and... and if things were to go bad, I don't want you to feel trapped."

"What kind of going bad are you worried about?"

"Hm?"

"You said "if things go bad" you'd be worried. But what kind of going bad are you worried about?"

Arlan blushed.

"Well," he said, "if I was... if I was bad in bed, or if I did something to upset you...."

"Nobody has ever been so bad at sex that I've wanted to run away forever," Ellie told him. "And... you're a nice guy. I can't see you doing something that would upset me to that degree."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah," said Ellie. 

“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” Arlan said, but he was looking at her with very dark eyes. 

He was licking his lips. 

“You’re not taking advantage of me,” Ellie said. “If anything, I worry that I’m taking advantage of you, or trying to push you into something you don’t want….”

“Oh, I want it,” said Arlan. “I… I very much want it.”

“So what are you so worried about?”

“Taking advantage,” Arlan said again.

“Can I promise you that you’re not?”

“You can,” said Arlan. 

“Can you trust me?”

“... I can trust you,” Arlan said, and he was looking at her, his eyes overbright.

She leaned forward, and she pressed her lips against his, nervously. 

Oh god. 

She pulled back, and he was looking at her with a slightly dazed expression. 

“Oh,” he said. “Your lip ring is warmer than I thought it would be.”

“It is?”

“Yeah,” said Arlan. “Because. Um. Because it’s metal.”

“I mean,” said Ellie, “I’m sure if I put it someplace warmer, it would feel colder.”

“Oh?”

Arlan was blushing.

“If, for example, I were to suck your cock right now, it would probably feel cold. Since… since if you’ve got an erection, your cock would be pretty hot, right?”

“Right,” Arlan said.

His voice was breathy. 

“So do you want to see?”

“I, uh….”

Ellie took a big, deep slug of her drink, and okay, that was… bitter, and stronger than she had expected, but fuck it. 

And then she stood up. 

“I’m… going to the bathroom. Since I finished my drink. And….” She leaned in closer, and her breasts pressed against his arm - he could probably feel how hard her nipples were through her bra, through her dress. 

He looked up at her with those big blue eyes of his, and her heart was beating in her ears, as her face turned red. 

God. 

Oh god.

She was doing this, oh god. 

And then he was… he was standing up, and he was following after her, into the bathroom - the single stall bathroom. 

Oh god.

The both of them were in there - it was small enough that they were belly to belly, and he was hard against her thigh. 

She turned her face up towards his, and then she put her hands on his shoulders, and she kissed him. 

* * * 

Arlan was kissing Ellie. 

Arlan was kissing Ellie like something out of a romance novel - his tongue was tracing across her lip ring, and it was wet, it was hard against his mouth, and then he had his tongue in her mouth, tracing along her teeth, and his hands were on her lovely, soft hips.

They were pressed so close together, and she was panting into his mouth, her hands in his hair, then moving to his hips, pulling her closer.

“God,” she whined, right into his mouth, “fuck, please… touch me.”

“Where do you want me to… where?”

She was trembling. 

He held her closer, and his hands slid down, to grab her ass.

God, it was so… soft. 

It was so fucking soft, and she was soft, and then she was running her fingers through his hair, raking them down his back, and... mmm… fuck. 

“Did you mean that about you sucking my cock?” 

Arlan’s voice was shaking, just a bit. 

“Of course i was,” said Ellie. “Why would I joke about that?”

“I mean,” Arlan said, and he licked his lips. 

“You mean?”

“You’re being mean,” Arlan said, and his tone was plaintive.

“I’m sorry,” said Ellie, and she made to pull away. “Am I upsetting you?”

“God no,” said Arlan, and then he was kissing her again, pushing her up against the wall, his hands in her hair. 

She whimpered against him, and her hips rocked forward, and oh _god_ , her hands were on his hands, and they were… leading his hands to her breasts. 

Her breasts, which were soft and warm and heavy, and... oh god, she did have pierced nipples, he could feel them against his palms, god, she was… luscious. 

He kissed her like it was the end of the world, and he was drowning - her breath was hot and warm against his cheek, and her hands were clinging to his shirt.

It had been… it had been a really long time since he’d been with anyone, intimate like this.

It had been such a long time, and she was real, she was… oh god, fuck….

“I wanna suck your cock,” Ellie said, right up against his lips. “I want to suck your cock so badly, fuck….”

“Are you… are you sure?”

“I’m very sure,” said Ellie. “I… I’m very sure.”

She was… she was getting on her knees, and she was undoing his belt, carefully, and he was leaning against the door - thank god he’d remembered to lock it.

“Oh!” 

She was looking at his cock.

“What’s up?”

Arlan… he should have been more… something, crap.

He tried to fix his dick, or maybe he should have… well, he’d washed everything, so that was the important part, right?

“I’ve, uh, I’ve never… I’ve never seen an uncut cock before,” she said. “So I guess you’re not Jewish, huh?”

“No, no,” Arlan said. “Not Jewish. Sorry.”

“... you don’t have to be sorry for having a foreskin,” said Ellie, and she was starting to giggle in spite of herself. 

“I should probably have told you about… about….” 

Ellie had her mouth around the head of his cock, and the bead of her lip ring was right up against his frenulum, and he was going weak in the knees.

“Mmm?”

She looked at him, her wide eyes staring up at him.

She seemed to be… grinning.

She took him further down her throat, and she was… how was she so good at this, she was so warm, and she was… god, he was… he was mumbling to her, in Danish, in English, and she was moaning around his cock, and that was… oh god, if he wasn’t careful he was going to cum in her mouth, and then she was looking up at him, still panting.

“I really want you to fuck me,” she told him.

“Do you have… I mean, uh….”

His brain was still gibbering, like something out of a certain flavor of pulp novel.

“I’m on the contraceptive implant,” she said, and she grabbed his hand, pressing it against her arm.

There was a queasy moment, as he felt… something moving under her skin. 

“Do you have any….” He tried to think of the word in English. His brain was glitching like an old CD. “Sicknesses. Sicknesses from….”

“STIs?”

Ellie looked amused.

“Yeah. Those.”

“No,” said Ellie.

“I don’t either,” said Arlan. 

“So do you want to fuck me?” 

“More than you can possibly imagine,” said Arlan, and then he was kissing her again, harder this time, and he was pressing her into the wall, as his hands went under her shirt, skating across the soft warmth of her belly, up to her breasts.

He pushed her shirt up, and he pushed her bra up, and then his face was in her breasts, and he was kissing along the tops of her them, then fastening on to one nipple, sucking on it as he twiddled with the barbel of the other one.

“Ah! Fuck, Arlan, you feel… you feel so… oh god, it’s so warm, you’re… fuck!” 

He switched nipples, and his tongue rasped across the tip of her nipple, fiddling with the ring, and she was clinging to his hair, her head falling back, and she was trying not to cry out, trying not to make too much noise.

His knee was rising up between her legs, pressing it right up against her, and he ground up.

Ellie was clutching at his shirt, and then… crap.

“I’m gonna fall over,” Ellie said. 

“Yeah, um. Um.”

Arlan licked his lips, and then he looked over at the toilet. “Okay. We could… sit on there?”

“You want to fuck me on the toilet?”

“We could go back to your place?”

“No, no,” Arlan said. “No, let’s… let’s do it. Just… please, I need… fuck!”

More fevered kissing, and then he was sitting on the toilet seat, leaning against the tank of it. 

“Fuck,” Ellie said, and then she was… oh _god_ , she was stepping out of her tights, her panties, and she was lifting her skirt up, and she was… she was straddling him.

“Are you gonna be okay with… are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Ellie said, and she was… she was holding his cock in her hand, and she was grinding her slit against his shaft, and she was so _wet_ that he could hear it, and he was shivering as he rolled his hips forward.

“I’m gonna cum like this if you’re not careful,” he warned her, and his voice was rough.

"Don't cum until I've cum around you," she said, right in his ear, and he shuddered, clutching at her hips. 

"I need you... I need you, right now," he said, and then she looked at him, puzzled and blushing, and he smiled at her, embarrassed. 

"I don't speak Danish," she said, and she was blushing.

"Oh," said Arlan, and he was blushing harder. "I didn't realize I was, uh, I was speaking Danish."

"It's okay," she said. "So what did you say?"

"I just said I want to be in this hot little pussy," Arlan said, right in her ear, and she shuddered against him.

"You're invited in," Ellie said, and then she was giggling, right into his neck.

"What's so funny?"

"Vampire pussy," Ellie said.

"... what?"

"In, uh, in American folklore - or maybe, uh, maybe I should say in just vampire movies in general - you have to invite someone in. A vampire. You have to... oh, fuck...."

He was rubbing the shaft of his cock up and down her slit, and the head of his cock was right up against her clit.

She was so wet and sticky, and he slid like silk.

Her clit was hard, pressing right up against his glans.

"You have to?"

His tone as amused. 

"You have to... you have to invite them it," Ellie said, and she was pressing her knees into his sides, humping him shallowly. 

"So you have a vampire pussy?"

"I'd say _you've_ got a vampire cock," said Ellie, and she was giggling harder, as she sat up, grabbing the shaft of his cock and pressing the head of his cock against the lips of her pussy. 

"Mmm... oh, fuck...."

She slid down onto him, and she was... she was so warm, so hot, so tight, velvety.

His eyes were practically crossing.

"Fuck," said Arlan. "Fuck... Ellie, oh...."

He rolled his hips, and she clenched around him. 

"You're so thick," Ellie said. 

"I like to think I'm kind of smart," Arlan said, and he was giggling as well, and then she was giggling as well. 

He bounced her in his lap, and she moaned and clenched.

His hand came around, rubbing her clit, and she was arching against him, her feet planted on the floor, and she was kissing him now, as he reached up to her nipples, twisting them with his fingers.

"You're so... god, Ellie," he said. 

"I'm not a god," she said, and more giggling, bouncing, and fuck, her tits, were bouncing, and they were in his face, and then her nipples were in his mouth, and they were warm, the metal almost as warm, and she sobbed and twitched around him, his cock plunging in and out of her.

"You're... so... god, Arlan, fuck, don't stop, please don't stop," Ellie gasped.

He was mumbling to her in Danish - he could feel the syllables going up and down in his mouth, and it was a bit... it was all a bit much, but at the same time, oh god, she was clenching, and he was rubbing her clit with the tip of his thumb, and he could feel his cock sliding in and out of her. 

"God, Ellie, you're fucking... luscious. I can't get enough of it. I want it... I want it so badly, fuck, Ellie, give it to me...."

She kept her face in his neck and held on to his shirt, twisting it, and he imagined what it would feel like, to have her fingers digging into his bare shoulders.

He was going to fuck her in his bed.

God.

He moaned, a long, low moan around her nipple, and then he pushed her breasts together, so he could lick both nipples at once.

"You're so... fuck, Ellie, don't stop, fuck, please please please please...."

"God, I like how you... fuck...."

"You like how I fuck?"

He was giggling, and his cock was twitching and flexing inside of her. 

Her nipples were getting harder, and her breath was beginning to heave, as she held onto him, and she was shuddering so hard that she was probably having trouble breathing.

"How's that, baby? How's... how's that? Are you... oh _fuck_!"

She did... something with her inner muscles, undulating around him, and he groaned like he was dying, holding on tightly to her hips, then beginning to hammer up into her, like something out of a certain type of porno, but who fucking cared, because she was so silky and so hot, and she was begging him, she was... shuddering, clinging to him, as she panted, right across his forehead.

She was getting tighter, and she was shuddering, and her whole body was on edge - her thighs were as hard as rocks, and her back was arching, and then she was cumming around his cock.

"Oh, fuck, Arlan," she sobbed, and she was... she was clenching and loosening, she was twitching around him, and it was fucking perfect, it was a level of perfect he didn't know he needed in his life, except that he was kissing her to keep from making any noise, her lip ring ticklish against his own lips, his tongue fiddling with the bead of it. 

He came inside of her, with a muffled groan, and he was damp with sweat - she was damp with sweat - and then he was looking up at her with an expression that was no doubt purely besotted.

"You're so fucking amazing," he told Ellie, and he smiled at her, dotting little kisses along the tops of her breasts.

"You're so... you've got a nice cock," Ellie said, and then she was giggling, pressing her forehead against his.

"Thank you," said Arlan. "I grew it myself."

Ellie began to laugh - it was ugly laughing, but it was so utterly endearing that he was laughing too, and then her interior muscles were squeezing him hard enough that he was actually sliding out of her, and okay, that was a little uncomfortable, but fuck it.

She was just so... something about her, she made him so happy. 

Arlan kissed her on the nose, and she crossed her eyes, then made a face.

"I need to pee," Ellie said. 

"Oh, sorry," said Arlan.

"It's fine," said Ellie, "Just... gimme a sec."

She got up off of his lap, and he immediately mourned the loss - she was so warm and cuddly. 

But he stood up as well, to shove his cock back into his pants, only for… her to lift the toilet seat up, and just sit on it, and begin to pee.

“Oh, that’s better,” she said, and her expression was bordering on rapturous.

Arlan blushed, and wasn’t sure why.

They had literally just had sex.

Why was he so embarrassed about watching her pee?

But she seemed unconcerned, still all wobbly from her orgasm.

“I want to eat your pussy,” he told her. 

“Oh,” she said. “Uh, thanks. Although now I’ve broken the seal.”

“Broken the seal?”

He washed his hands - they still smelled all musky, from her cunt. 

“Yeah. You know, you go out drinking, and you don’t have to pee, until you do, but once you’ve peed, you have to pee every five minutes?”

“Oh. That’s a thing?”

“That’s totally a thing.”

There was a knock on the door, and they both jumped.

“Just a minute,” Arlan said quickly.

Ellie made eye contact with him, and then bit back a giggle.

He grinned back at her. 

This was… this wasn’t where he had expected things to go, not in the slightest.

But fuck, if he wasn’t glad it had gone there.

Here.

Wherever it was.

* * * 

They got leered at as they left the bathroom, but it was a good natured sort of leering.

Ellie was still wet between the legs, and her pussy was still throbbing pleasantly.

God, she wanted to be fucked like that again.

And again, fuck….

She sat next to Arlan at a booth, and she glanced sidelong at him, and remembered what it felt like to have his cock inside of her, and her pussy clenched around nothing.

… fuck, she had been skin hungry, if a simple fuck in the bathroom would leave her this giddy.

“I got you another beer,” Arlan said, and he nudged it towards her.

Ellie took a slug of it, and tried not to cough.

It was… it was bitter.

It was very bitter.

A lot of the beer around here was bitter.

Which was a bit of a surprise, considering how friendly Danes had come across.

Apart from Lars.

She was grinning down at her beer, and Arlan shot her a look.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Ellie said, and she leaned against him, her head on his shoulder, her hip pressed against his hip. “I think I’m just a bit punch drunk.”

“Punch drunk?”

“It’s, uh… it’s a thing,” Ellie said.

All of the booze seemed to be going to her head at once, which was a bit of a surprise.

Usually, she could hold her liquor pretty well. 

“What kinda thing?”

Arlan wrapped an arm around her, and she snuggled up to him, taking occasional sips of her beer. 

“It’s… okay. You know how boxers like… hit each other?”

“You mean they box?”

Arlan sounded amused.

“Yeah.”

“What about it?”

“Well, uh, if you take enough blows to the head, you end up getting kinda… stupid. Not exactly stupid. Loopy?” 

Arlan nodded. 

Hopefully she was making sense.

“So, like, in reality, they were concussed. So they had shit like… post concussion syndrome. Syndrime? I think I said that wrong.”

Arlan chuckled. 

“I think you’re getting drunk,” he told Ellie.

“Nuh uh,” said Ellie. 

“No?”

“No!”

“What makes you so sure it’s a no, sweetheart?”

“I don’t feel drunk,” she said, and she listed against him, her head on his shoulder.

He was so warm, and so solid - she liked having him so close to her.

She snuggled closer to him, and his breath huffed across the top of her head.

“Would you be this affectionate if you were sober?”

“I’d get under this table and suck your cock if I was stone cold sober,” Ellie insisted.

“I guess I’d better not suggest that, then,” said Arlan.

He sounded amused.

She turned her head, and she kissed him again, tasting his beer, his own taste, and she sighed, as the warmth rolled over her.

She kind of had to pee, but fuck it.

They were going to stay here, close as they could get, and keep drinking. 

She took another slug of her beer, and she tried not to wrinkle her nose.

It was strong tasting - not that she disliked beer, far from it, but it seemed to be stronger than she expected it to be. 

But she kept drinking, because… well, fuck it.

All of the craziness was starting to get to her, and she clung to him, because he was here, and he was safe. 

* * *

It was raining as they made their way back. 

It was cold, and it was wet, and she was cold and wet - her high tops were made of canvas, and her socks and feet were very quickly soaked.

“You didn’t wear the right kinds of shoes,” he told her, in a slightly scolding tone of voice.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

She was already shivering.

And she had to pee.

She had to pee so badly, she should have left before they left the bar, she was… oh god….

“... Arlan?”

“Hmmm?”

“Arlan, I need to pee.”

“You need to what?”

“I need to pee.”

“Oh.” 

“Is there, like… a place where we can stop?”

“Not really,” said Arlan. “Can you make it?”

“I can… I… oh.”

She just… peed.

She should have stopped. 

She knew that she should have stopped,but she was still peeing, and he was holding on to her, looking at her, his eyes concerned.

“Ellie?”

“I peed,” she said quietly.

“What, right now?”

“... yeah.”

“Oh,” said Arlan. 

“... fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… I mean, I’m….”

“Can’t be helped,” Arlan said, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”

“Are you sure?”

The rain pelted down on the two of them, and she was soaked up to the knees from a puddle, and then her crotch was wet, and her thighs… and then a passing car splashed them both, and she was just… soaked.

Fully soaked.

She was laughing.

She was a bit shocked to find herself laughing, honestly, but this was all so… strange.

This wasn’t the plan that she’d had. 

She didn’t even know what the plan was, but she’d just pissed her pants in the rain, with the guy who she’d had smoking hot sex with.

“Can you just pee… anywhere?”

He sounded faintly impressed.

“I have no idea,” she said. “I mean… I usually do okay. But when i’m all stressy, I get very… you know.”

“Are you stressy?”

“I’m drunk,” she said. “And… you didn’t seem too bothered by the fact that I pissed the bed.”

“I’d have pissed the bed too, honestly, if I was in your shoes.”

“I don’t wear shoes to bed,” said Ellie. “Do you pee the bed?”

“I don’t pee the bed,” said Arlan. “At least… I haven’t in a long time.”

“No?”

“I want to eat your pussy,” Arlan said.

“I literally just peed my pants.” 

“You’re not wearing pants,” Arlan said, and his voice was teasing. 

“So that’s why you want to eat my pussy?”

“I mean,” said Arlan, “I’ve wanted to eat your pussy since I saw you.”

“Since you saw me crying in the airport?”

“Well, okay, no. Not since then. But at least since you kissed me.”

“I didn’t kiss you that long.”

“You kissed me not that long ago,” she pointed out. “So it’s not long that you’ve wanted to eat my pussy.”

“I like pussy,” Arlan said, and then he was giggling as well. “And I like your pussy. At least, I like my dick in your pussy. I think I’ll like my face in your pussy.” 

“I just peed,” she said, and she sounded faintly scandalized, and she was giggling. 

He shrugged. 

“It’s diluted by now, with all this rain.”

“I mean,” she said, “if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” he assured her. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna do so many wonderful things to you.”

“I look forward to them,” Ellie said, as if she was making some great pronouncement. 

“You’re a good girl,” he said, and then he repeated it, in Danish, because she shivered against him when he said it.

“I already peed,” she said. 

“... what?”

“Didn’t you just tell me to go pee?”

“Oh! Uh, no. In… I said “good girl,” in Danish,” he said, and he was blushing, just a bit.

They were almost at his building, thank god.

Her toes were fucking cold.

Her toes were cold, and they were going to be so wrinkled and pruney, and that was the worst feeling, and she made a face at that, but… urgh. 

There was no way he was going to eat her out - no fucking way, when she was this cold, and also when she had just peed herself.

No fucking way.

Maybe tomorrow - he did look like he’d be great at pussy eating, admittedly - she trusted anyone who was willing to rock a beard like that. 

Maybe she just trusted him, period.

He was so… god, her stomach was nothing but butterflies, and she was already turned on again, although… the cold was kinda cutting into that.

Her socks were wet.

Her everything was wet.

She was shaking, she realized.

Was she cold?

Was she aroused?

She couldn't tell at this point, but now they were at his building, and he was opening the door with his key, and she was stepping inside.

It was... it was squelching, it was so wet and cold and clammy and... well, everything, everything was making her shake, and she was clutching at herself, trying not to let her teeth chatter, trying not to let anything at all happen, trying to just... ride it.

She was so cold, she was so embarrassed, but she was also horny, and she didn't know how to deal with that, except that she was still here.

Was she dissociating? 

Or was she just drunk?

But now they were in Arlan's apartment, and he was kicking his own shoes off, and then he was looking at her expectantly.

She looked back at him, wobbling on her feet.

"Honey," Arlan said, and he was being condescending, and it was doing... something to her, something she didn't know how to explain, except... oh. "Honey, you need to take your shoes off."

"If I lean over, I'm going to fall," Ellie said, because... well, it was true. 

"How about you go sit down?"

He offered her an arm, and she leaned against him, her head still on his shoulder, and she wobbled towards the kitchen table.

She sat down heavily, and then she was offering him her foot. 

He sat on the floor in front of her, and he took her foot onto his lap.

"These are _not_ the right kind of shoes for coming to this country," he told her, and she was squirming, pressing her thighs together, squirming in the chair. 

Why was she getting so turned on?

"I'm sorry," she said thickly. 

"Your feet are gonna be freezing," said Arlan. "You're gonna get sick, if you're not careful."

"I'm sorry," Ellie mumbled, and she was flushing. 

"If you get sick, I'll have to take care of you," he said, and he was blushing so hard, but he was keeping eye contact. 

"You don't want to take care of me?"

She was holding her breath. 

Why was she holding her breath?

"If I take care of you... I might... be like _Misery_."

"... you know _Misery_?" 

"We had a whole conversation about Stephen King!"

"Well, yeah, okay," said Ellie, and she giggled, and she sounded embarrassed. "I'm sorry. Please don't break my ankles."

"What if I... what if I made you stay in bed, and gave you soup, and wrapped you in blankets, maybe even have to make you use a bedpan, or diaper you...."

She was flushing - this was... this wasn't what she was supposed to like.

Truth be told, she was kind of hazy on what she was _supposed_ to like - sometimes it felt like she wasn't supposed to like stuff to begin with, but here she was.

"I'd overheat," she said, and she was blushing harder, because... well, to be blunt, this was all so weird.

The room was spinning, just a bit, and she was horny, and she smelled like rain and piss and arousal - could he smell her arousal?

"Maybe I'd just keep you naked, so you could sweat it out," and he was pulling her other shoe off.

She blushed so hard that she was worried she'd pass out. 

Oh god.

"Ellie? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Ellie said thickly.

"You sure?"

"My feet are cold."

"Of course they're cold," said Arlan, and he had taken up that same scolding tone that he had been using before. 

"Sorry," said Ellie. 

"Stand up for a sec," Arlan said, and she did, and he just... reached his hands under her skirt, and he was grabbing the waistband of her tights, and he was just... pulling them down, around her thighs, around her ankles, and then they were off.

Her toes were very wet, and very wrinkled. 

Arlan took one of her feet in his big hand, and he rubbed it, then blew on it.

She wriggled her toes - his beard was ticklish against her sole, and then he was kissing it, a loud, smacking, silly kiss.

"Little piggies," he said, and his voice was teasing.

She wriggled them.

He began to speak to her in Danish - she had no idea what he was saying, but his voice... his voice was nice.

His voice was _very_ nice, and he was wriggling each of her toes, and he was saying stuff, and then he was kissing each toe, and wiggling the next one.

"Is that "this little piggy" in Danish?"

"Something like that, yeah," he said, and he was holding on to her foot again, squeezing it, and her toes were warming up, as she pressed her other foot against his side.

She was already starting to shake. 

He was kissing each toe again, and then he was… he was sucking on her toes, and his mouth was so hot, compared to how cold her toes were, and it was… it was almost painful, almost, and she was sobbing, but she was horny at the same time, some kind of direct line right to her clit, which was throbbing at her like a fucking broken tooth.

“This little piggy,” he said, in English, and he was sucking on her toes, as she clutched at the seat of the chair.

“My piggies are cold,” said Ellie, her tone forlorn.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have worn canvas sneakers when coming to Denmark, a country that is known for being cold and rainy,” said Arlan.

Ellie stuck her tongue out at him.

He gave her a Look - it even merited a capital “l” - and she flushed, looking down.

“So what have we learned?”

“Wear shoes that aren’t canvas high tops when coming to a cold, rainy country like Denmark,” said Ellie.

“Very good,” said Arlan, and he was still being condescending, and it was enough to make her toes curl. 

Oh fuck. 

“Now,” Arlan said, and he was pushing her skirt up, slowly, “would you like me to lick that hot little pussy?”

“Yes,” Ellie whimpered, and then he was pushing her skirt up higher, and his beard was tickling her thighs.

Oh fuck….

* * *

Ellie smelled a little bit like pee, but mostly, she smelled like… herself.

He kissed along her thigh, and it was damp with rain, chilly against his mouth.

She was squirming, as his beard tickled her thighs, and she smelled like rain and piss and arousal. 

He kissed along her thighs, and she was squirming, holding on to the seat of the chair, squirming, breathing heavily.

He pulled her skirt up further, and he was looking at the crotch of her panties.

They were light blue.

Well, darker blue now.

He hooked his fingers under the waistband, and he was pulling them down, around her thighs, of of her ankles, and she was sighing, spreading her legs wider.

Her pussy was soft, and her pubic hair was dark. 

When he pushed his face forward, breathing across it, she shuddered, and she spread her legs wider, letting him see more pink.

He licked her, from the seat of the chair to her clit, and she tasted like piss, like rain, like herself.

She moaned, and the skirt fell over his head, leaving him in the tent of her patchwork skirt.

“Can you breathe?”

Her voice was coming from a long way off, and was faintly muffled.

“Yeah,’ he said, and he kissed her, right on the clit, and she jerked against him.

“Fuck,” Ellie said, her voice thick.

“Shhh,” said Arlan, and then he was pressing his face closer, his whole face into her pussy, and he was licking her, and then he was sucking on her clit, and her fingers were in his hair, even through her skirt. 

“Mmmm,” Ellie mumbled, and her hips rolled forward, as he began to lick her harder. 

She was panting - he could hear the rapid in and out of her breath, and her thighs were tensing under his hands, as he held her open.

She was… she was musky, she was salty, and okay, there was a bit of the aftertaste of piss, but fuck it, he could live with that.

He could taste the faint, cold taste of the rain, as he kissed along her thighs.

She was whining like she was in pain, and she was holding on to his hair, twisting it in her fingers awkwardly.

“Your beard is… it’s… mm… it’s ticklish,” Ellie mumbled.

He pulled back, and he kissed along her inner thigh. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she said. 

“I won’t,” he said, and he chuckled, more puffs of warm air across her pussy, and she went boneless and wriggly.

“Okay,” she said. “Good.”

He chuckled, and then he began to lick her, reaching out to her ass, to tilt her hips forward.

He was fucking her with his tongue, and now he could taste some of his own cum - bitter and salty, to contrast the salty, musky taste of her, and she was whining in the back of her throat, her toes curling on his hips. 

Her hips were rising up to meet his tongue, and she was sobbing, broken, desperate noises.

She was a delight - she squealed when he flickered his tongue over her clit, and she whined like a puppy when he fucked her with his tongue and rubbed her clit with his nose at the same time.

She was already getting sweeter, the flavor deeper as he coaxed more wetness out of her - he was going to have to wash his face after all of this, or he would smell like pussy whenever he brushed across his own beard.

… he could live with that, admittedly.

And then she was patting his head, tugging on his hair, and he came out from under the tent of her skirt to blink up at her.

She looked up at him, and then she was laughing. 

“What’s so funny?”

He had a pube on his nose - he wiped it off absently.

“You’ve… you look like a glazed doughnut,” Ellie said, and she was giggling so hard that her face was turning bright red.

“Do I?”

“Oh yeah,” said Ellie.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Ellie said. “I was, uh, I was gonna ask if you’d be willing to… you know, use your fingers on me. Fuck me with your fingers.”

“You mean like… this?”

He slid two of his fingers inside of her, and she gasped, clenching around him.

He grinned at her, and she grinned back - her whole face seemed to open up like a flower, and she was so… cute.

“Yeah, just… curl it, just like… oh!”

He found the change of texture inside of her, and he pressed down on her g-spot.

She groaned again, harder this time, and he rocked his hand, carefully. 

“Do you want me to go back to licking your sweet little clit?”

She gave a thumbs up, and then she stuffed her fist into her mouth, her other hand going to her own hair, twisting it around and around her own fist.

He grinned, and then he was back between her legs, his wrist at a slightly awkward angle, his lips wrapped around her clit, sucking on it.

She was sobbing and writhing against him, her hungry pussy pulling his fingers in, and his fingers were already starting to prune up.

His cock was hard again, but he was ignoring it for the moment, because Ellie was just… full on humping his face.

He hooked her legs over his shoulders, so that she was riding his face, and he was fingering her awkwardly - his wrist was already getting sore, and he was probably going to ache for this in the morning, but who fucking cared.

Ellie’s cunt pulled him in deeper, and she was moaning louder.

He glanced up through the tent of her skirt, and he saw that she was pinching and pulling on her own nipples, twisting them, and oh god, they were so had through her shirt, and he wanted them in his mouth - he’d have to suck on them, the next time he had the chance.

She had such luscious tits - such luscious everything, and that included her wet, hot pussy, which was just… pulling him in, as he sucked her clit, fucking her with his fingers.

“I’m gonna… fuck, fuck, fuck, I think I’m… fuck, I’m so… Arlan, please, I… I’m gonna… oh, _fuck_ , Arlan, you… I… fuck!”

She came - a long contraction of her muscles, and then there was thin, sweet fluid on his fingers, and she was dripping more fluid down his face.

He was going to have to wash his shirt, too.

And then she was tugging on his hair, and she was pulling him closer to her - his fingers were still buried inside of her, and he was kissing her sweet mouth, her tongue against his teeth.

“Oh,” he said thickly. “Oh, fuck, you’re so… you’re so… oh….

“I’m sorry,” Ellie said. “I think I squirted.”

“Why are you sorry for that?”

“‘Cause… it’s… you know….”

“Ellie, I just ate your pussy after you wet your pants,” said Arlan. “You think I care about squirt?”

“... I mean, when you put it like that,” said Ellie, and she was blushing.

“Exactly,” said Arlan, and he cupped her cheek. “Although you’re gonna be sick if we don’t get you out of those wet clothes.”

“I’ll be fine,” said Ellie. “It’s just a myth, that you can get sick from wet clothes.”

“Well,” said Arlan, “still. You should take a nice hot bath.”

“Take it with me?”

“... we wouldn’t both fit,” Arlan said. “But I’ll sit next to you?”

“... okay,” said Ellie, and then she made a surprised noise, as his finger withdrew. 

He licked his finger, making a bit of a show of it, and she flushed.

“Do you want to fuck me again?”

She was licking her lips.

“Do you want me to?”

His cock was certainly pro the idea, but it helped to take stock of the rest of him.

“Well, yeah,” she said. “That’s why I asked.”

“Oh,” said Arlan, and he was blushing. “Well. Um. I mean… if you’d like?”

“I’d very much like it,” said Ellie. “Please? I’m still all twitchy and pulsing inside - I love having something nice and thick to squeeze around….” 

“Okay,” said Arlan, and okay, maybe he was only a little bit influenced by what she was saying, but he just… couldn’t get enough of that sweet, hot, tight pussy.

She smiled at him, and she kissed him.

* * *

Ellie bent over the table, and she felt Arlan’s warm hands push her skirt up.

She was still over sensitive and tingly from him eating her out - she loved that sensation, of the almost-but-not-quite over stimulation, and then the head of his cock was just gently… probing, and it was just the tip, which was enough to drive her mad.

She tried to sink back on him, to get him deeper, but no - he kept her right there, his hands firmly on her hips.

“Shhh, shhh….”

Arlan made soothing noises, rubbing little circles onto her chilled skin with his thumb, as he held on to her tightly.

“I’m… gonna go crazy, if you just keep it sitting there,” said Ellie, and her voice cracked.

“You want it?”

“I really want it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of something in my life.”

“Really?”

“Really really?”

“Arlan, I swear to fucking god I will - oh, fuuuuuck….”

He slid it in.

One smooth stroke, barely rolling his hips, and he was balls deep inside of her, bottoming out.

She was shaking, and she was breathing hard, her face pressed into her own forearms, and she was pressing back against him.

“You weren’t kidding about being all twitchy,” he said, and his voice was rough.

“Would I ever joke about something so serious as the current state of my pussy?”

“I dunno. Would you?”

That was a slightly sobering thought - for all that she liked him, that he was nice… she didn’t know much about him.

But oh, he was angling his hips, and he was beginning to fuck her in earnest. 

Long, slow strokes of his hips, and she threw her head back, panting, and he was… he was letting go of her hip to tangle his hand in her hair, and then he was letting go of it, to reach down, taking a handful of breast.

“God, you’re so… soft, fuck, Ellie….”

He let off a string of Danish, and her pussy squeezed him tightly, twitching around him, and her bare feet were curling into the cold lino, but that didn’t fucking matter, none of it mattered, all that mattered was that Arlan was fucking her, was filling her up, was making her feel so good that she couldn’t breathe.

She ground back against him, and then he was… oh god, he was… fuck, he was reaching for her clit, he was rubbing her clit with the very tip of his index finger, and it was… there was so much of it, it was too much, but it wasn’t enough at the same time, and she was already on the very edge of something that might have been an orgasm, except she’d already cum, and she wasn’t usually one for multiple orgasms.

Everything was so _wet_ \- she was sweating, she was damp from the rain, and her own arousal was shiny on her thighs, she was almost certain.

She as going to cum on his table, around his cock, as he fucked her, and then he was draping himself across her back, his face in the back of her neck, nuzzling into it, whispering things to her in Danish, in English, a mix of endearments and obscenities, and it was all blending together.

Ellie came around Arlan’s cock, and she cried as she did, from the overstimulation, from the strangeness of it all, as the world spun around her, and she clenched and spasmed, as he kissed along her neck, her shoulder, gentle little brushes of his lips, his beard ticklish and still smelling like pussy.

“Do you want… mmm… do you want me to cum inside of you?”

“If you wanna,” she said, her voice thick.

“Thank you,” he said, and then his face was in her neck again, as he humped her in earnest, moaning and panting, until he was going stock still, his cock twitching and throbbing inside of her, leaving her gooey and trembling, as he kept himself inside of her, and then he was pressing his sweaty forehead into her shoulder, and he stroked along her flanks, carefully.

“You’re really cute,” she told him, as he kept shuddering against her.

“I think my dick is trying to turn itself inside out,” he said, and his tone was forlorn.

“Oh my god,” Ellie said, “you big baby.”

“I’m not the one that pissed myself twice in twenty four hours,” Arlan said, and then he kissed her, no doubt in apology.

She made a startled noise, as he pulled out of her cunt, and she sighed, already gapingly empty, missing his cock.

“You need a bath,” said Arlan. 

“So’s your face,” said Ellie, and she was giggling. 

“You’re adorable.”

“I am not,” said Ellie. “I’m a terrifying monster, and you know it.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” said Arlan. 

“You wouldn’t say that i’m a terrifying monster?”

“I certainly wouldn’t say it,” said Arlan, and he was looking down at his dick. 

Ellie was still shivering - her teeth were starting to chatter, actually. 

She was all clammy from the sweat that came from the sex, and she was just… she couldn’t stop shaking. 

How about that?

She was noticing this from a long way off, which she wasn’t expecting, but she was shaking so hard. 

“Oh, honey,” said Arlan, and then he was wrapping her up in his arms, his chin on top of her head as she kept shivering.

“Sorry,” Ellie mumbled.

“No, sh, sh, it’s fine,” said Arlan. “I promise. Shhh….”

She clutched at his shirt, and it was damp as well. 

“Yeah, c’mon, let’s get you a nice hot bath….”

“Sorry,” Ellie said. 

Her knees were still wobbling.

“It’s okay,’ said Arlan. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m having a lot of feelings. And also I’m drunk.”

“That would make sense,” said Arlan. “So do you want to get a nice bath?”

Ellie nodded.

“Okay,” said Arlan, and he kissed her forehead. “C’mon….” 

* * *

Ellie sat in Arlan’s bathtub, her eyes half closed, and Arlan sat next to her on the floor, his hand in hers, his arm over the lip of the bathtub.

He was holding her hand. 

“Thank you for… you know. All of this,” said Ellie.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Arlan, and he smiled at her. “I like taking care of people. And I like you.”

“I’ve only known you for… two days now,” said Ellie.

Arlan shrugged, and he squeezed her fingers.

“It’s not like I’m giving you my bank card numbers or anything like that,” he pointed out. 

“... do you want to sleep with me?” 

Her voice was very quiet. 

“I mean,” said Arlan, and he was blushing a bit, as he watched her sink lower into the water, her breasts bobbing, “we’ve already… slept together.”

“Not… like, sleep-sleep,” said Ellie.

He looked at her sidelong. 

Her hair was sticking to her forehead, and she seemed to be sweating - he grabbed the washcloth, and passed it across her face.

“Sleep-sleep?”

“Yeah,” said Ellie. “Like... there’s the colloquialism about “sleeping together,” but that’s not actually sleeping.”

“Of which I am very grateful,” said Arlan. “I wouldn’t want sleep to have to deal with someone falling asleep every time we want to have sex.” 

“That would be annoying,” said Ellie, and she yawned. “I’m so tired….”

“You’ve had, like, three orgasms,” said Arlan, “and you’re probably still a bit jet lagged.”

“The last two days have just felt like a million years,” he said. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m glad… I’m glad I met you. And I’m glad we… you know….”

“Had sex?”

She sounded amused.

“Right,” said Arlan. 

He was aware that he was blushing.

“You’re cute, you know that?”

He cleared his throat.

“I do my best,” he said. 

She raised an eyebrow.

“Hm?”

“When someone compliments you, you thank them,” she said, her voice prim.

“Thank you,” said Arlan, and he kissed her hand. 

“Much better,” she said, and she leaned over, dripping water on his jeans and kissing him.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“I’m less cold,” she said. 

That was true - she wasn’t shivering anymore. 

She still looked slightly glassy eyed, although part of that might have been the alcohol. 

Alcohol did things to everyone.

“That’s good,” he said. “Would you like some tea before bed?”

“Nah,” she said, and she yawned, wide enough that he heard her jaw pop.

“Oh,” said Arlan. “Wow. That must have been painful.”

“Mm?”

“That. I heard the pop.”

“Oh,” said Ellie, and she flushed. “Sorry. I, uh, I do that sometimes.”

“Oh,” said Arlan.

“You should hear my ankles some mornings,” said Ellie, and then she was blushing.

“I’m looking forward to it,” said Arlan, and she blushed some more.

“I should rinse off,” she said. “You want to, uh… come in with me?”

He eyed the bathtub - they could probably both fit inside of it, if they were standing up.

And he did have a bath mat…. 

“Okay,” he said. 

* * *

It was interesting, watching him take his clothes off.

He was very pale, and he had a scar on the overhand of his belly, and he had pale, red-blond hair along his chest, his arms, his back. 

He had a slightly flat butt, and she grinned when she saw it. 

He was… he was pretty.

Not like something out of a model magazine or anything like that, but… still pretty cute.

His cock was soft and limp against one thigh, and he sighed, climbing into the bathtub with her, and then they were skin to skin, hardness of her nipple rings against the softness of his chest.

His chest hair was ticklish against her own chest, and his chin was on top of her head.

She sighed, right into his neck, and he wrapped his arms around her, his hands on her hips.

He kissed her forehead, and she sighed again, which made him shiver.

“You okay?”

“That’s ticklish,” he told her.”

“Oh,” she said. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “Are you ticklish?”

“There’s no right way for me to answer that question,” said Ellie.

“Mm?”

His face was still in her hair, and he sounded sleepy. 

“If I say that I am, you’ll tickle me to prove it. And if I say no, you’ll tickle me anyway, to prove me wrong.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Arlan said, and he sounded scandalized. 

“Really?” 

“... I wouldn’t do that to you while you’re drunk,” said Arlan. “You’d fall over and hit your head, and then we’d have a really awkward ride to the emergency room.”

“I mean, everything else we’ve done has somehow managed to be awkward and still work,” Ellie said, her face in his shoulder.

“So to be clear,” said Arlan, “it’s the awkward that you’re disputing, not the emergency room?” 

Ellie snorted, and Arlan squirmed - cool air on warm skin is always a bit ticklish.

“I figured the not wanting to go to the emergency room was a given.”

“Well,” said Arlan, “fair enough. I’m a bit stupid with all the beer.”

“We both are,” said Ellie. 

“We should go to bed,” said Arlan. “So that we’re good for stuff tomorrow.”

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“I work from home,” he reminded her. “And don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” she said, and she yawned. “I am pretty tired.”

“Exactly,” said Arlan, and he gave her a loud, smacking kiss on the forehead.

* * *

There was a moment of awkwardness, after they’d both gotten out of the shower and toweled off.

“Would you like to, um… would you like to sleep with me?”

Ellie cleared her throat.

“You mean in the bed with you?”

“Yeah,” said Ellie. “If you’d like to, I mean.”

“If you’re sure,” said Arlan. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

“I’d very much like you to,” said Ellie. “If you’re not afraid to sleep with me, after I peed the bed last night.”

“I’m not too worried about that,” said Arlan. 

“Thank you,” said Ellie, and then she leaned forward, and she kissed him again, still swaying on her feet.

She was naked, her soft belly and bare breasts pressing against his more sparse frame.

He sighed, and he pulled her closer, his hands on her sides, pressing into the softness of her skin.

She kissed him back, and then they were lost in the soft push and pull of their mouths, in the dimness of his apartment.

“We should go to bed,” said Ellie, and she yawned. 

Then she coughed.

It was a small cough, but the tickle in the back of her throat probably didn’t bode well.

She coughed again, and he made a sympathetic noise.

“Yeah, we should go to sleep,” he said. “C’mon.”

* * *

Arlan spooned her, his chin on her shoulder, his belly against her back.

His chest hair was slightly itchy against the sensitive skin, and she gave a little shiver as she began to relax.

“In a weird way, this is what I was imagining,” she said, her voice quiet.

“Mmm?”

He was speaking into her hair.

“Because… because, you know, um… because I wanted to be cuddled and fucked. Which is what I’m doing. I just… didn’t see it being you. For obvious reasons.”

“You didn’t know me,” said Arlan, his voice drowsy.

“And now I do,” she said. “Well… sort of.”

He made an amused noise - another puff of air against her shoulder.

“You know me in the biblical way,” he said.

She snickered, then began to laugh.

He made a surprised noise.

“What’s so funny?”

“There’s, uh, there’s a song. It’s called “I Wanna Get To Know You In The Biblical Way” and it’s what I think of every time I hear that.”

“Oh,” said Arlan. “Yeah, that would make sense. Who are they?”

“They’re a Jewish Australian punk rock band,” Ellie said.

There was an audible pause.

“Well, that certainly was a collection of words,” Arlan said, and then he snuggled closer, his hands still on her belly.

They sank in, gently. 

She snuggled up to him, and she let her eyes slide shut, as sleep washed over her like a wave.

* * * 

She woke up a few hours later, coughing.

It was a dry, chesty cough, but there was something ominous about it - something rumbled deep inside of her chest, and she was hacking as she sat up.

… crap, she needed to pee.

She almost ran to the bathroom, and that set off another round of coughing, as she sat down on the toilet and pissed like a beast, coughing and coughing.

Her head hurt, and she coughed harder, until she saw spots in front of her eyes.

She sighed - at least her bladder was empty, right?

* * *

She woke up coughing two more times, and she peed on the floor the second time.

At least she knew where the cleaning stuff was, more or less.

… paper towels were paper towels, right? And she more or less knew what a cleansing wipe looked like.

Arlan slept through it - he must have been pretty drunk, or pretty tired, or both.

It had all been kind of tumultuous.

… at least she’d slept naked, so she just had to rinse off in the shower.

She slid back into bed with him, and he pulled her close, his face still in her hair, mumbling something quiet.

He didn’t have to know.

* * * 

Arlan was woken up at seven in the morning by Ellie coughing.

It was bad coughing - he knew the sound of a chest infection in progress, considering how many he’d had.

“Oh, honey,” he said, and then he was murmuring to her in Danish as he sat up, helping her sit up as well, rubbing her back as she rocked back and forth, coughing.

And then the bed was wet.

… wait a minute.

“Ellie, did you wet the bed again?”

He kept his voice quiet, calm.

She was crying.

She was coughing and she was crying, and she was also peeing, and a bit of him was going “oh god, more laundry,” but most of him was just worried.

“C’mon honey, get it out, it’s okay….”

He rubbed her back, and he held her closer to him, rocking her as she coughed and coughed, until she was finally breathing again.

“I peed the bed again,” she said, and she was crying, loud, ugly tears.

“It’s okay,” he told her. “Shh… it’s okay. We can do the laundry, and you can take a shower. The shower can also clean out all the gunk in your chest - I can hear it rattling around in there.”

She sighed.

“I’m… I need to get some… some… stuff. Crap. Fuck.”

“Stuff or crap?”

HIs tone was teasing. 

“Both,” she grumbled.

“Well, I think you need to figure it out first.”

“You’re mean.”

“I totally am. I am the worst ever. I am a total and complete monster.”

Ellie was laughing harder, and she was starting to cough, cough so hard that she was seeing little starbursts behind her eyelids.

Arlan whacked her on the back, and Ellie coughed up… something that she didn’t want to think about.

Arlan handed her a tissue, presumably from the bedside table, and she spat it out, and then she sniffed.

“Urgh,” she mumbled.

“You peed the bed again, darling,” said Arlan.

“And I peed on the floor last night,” Ellie said, and she sighed. “I’m sorry. I usually… I usually have better control than this.”

“How about we go to the medical supply store? We can figure out how to deal with this.”

“Right,” said Ellie, and she blinked at him, still bleary eyed.

“You should take a shower first,” said Arlan. “I’ll strip the bed.”

“Okay,” said Ellie. 

It was a testament to how tired she was, that she was just… being agreeable.

Not that she wasn’t normally agreeable, but usually she liked to put up at least a cursory bit of resistance. 

* * *

“I’m gonna lend you a pair of my boots,” said Arlan. 

“They’re gonna be too big,” Ellie said, but she sat down and drank her tea. 

“You can wear a few pairs of socks,” Arlan reassured her. “That’ll keep your feet from rattling around too much.”

“Feet don’t rattle,” Ellie said, and she yawned.

Arlan frowned at her. 

“Your voice is all husky,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” said Ellie. “I’m still… I’m sorry.”

She began to cough again, and he made soothing noises, rubbing her back.

She sighed, pressing her face into his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” she said into his shirt.

“It’s okay,” he said, and he kissed the top of her head. 

“No it’s not,” she said. “I’ve peed on you, like, three times already.”

“Maybe I’m developing a kink for it,” he told her, and then he was going to his sock drawer, pulling out three pairs.

He carefully layered them, and she wriggled her toes inside of their cushy, fluffy prison.

It was nice, just… letting him do things to her. 

Not having to think.

Her head was pounding, and she felt all dizzy and exhausted, weak.

“We’re gonna get you some nice medicine,” he told her.

“Can you do all of the talking?”

“Of course he said, and he held out her sweater.

She held it in her hands, staring down at it with a slightly confused expression, then put it on.

Was she sleep deprived, or just sick?

Some combination thereof?

“Ellie?”

She looked up at Arlan, who was holding a boot. 

“You ready?”

“Right,” she said, and then there was the process of putting the boot on, getting the other on.

“You should go pee before we go,” said Arlan. 

Ellie paused, then shrugged.

“I don’t think I need to pee?”

“Do it for me?”

He shot her a look that could only be described as “affectionately condescending,” and despite her exhaustion and her headache, something familiar deep and low in her belly clenched.

Oh god.

“Okay,” she said quietly, and then she was clomping to the bathroom, peeing, washing her hands, and... coming back. 

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

* * *

The sky was overcast, and it smelled a bit like the air after the rain.

She sighed, and she followed after him, holding his hand.

She was in some kind of quiet, tired place inside of her head, and she was content to just follow after him. 

She didn’t speak the language, after all.

* * *

The medical supply shop was mostly empty, and Arlan flagged down an employee, speaking in rapid Danish.

She let the syllables wash over her, still holding his hand, squeezing his fingers, trying not to let her eyes slide down, trying not to let the exhaustion take over too hard.

She had to be careful not to start coughing - she needed to not pee herself while she was out and about.

Especially when she was out and about here - she didn’t know anyone around here, she didn’t know… well, much of anything, truth be told.

But Arlan was blushing, just a bit.

“Um,” he said, when the salesperson had gone off, and it was just Arlan and Ellie in an aisle, “the man suggested, uh… suggested diapers.”

“Diapers,” Ellie said, her voice flat.

The humiliation was filling her like water in a glass. 

He was actually talking about the fact that she couldn’t stop pissing herself to a random stranger, and she couldn’t interject, because she didn’t speak the language.

Anyway, what would she have said?

“I don’t normally piss myself, I’m just sick?”

Because that wasn’t necessarily true - she’d been pissing herself before she’d gotten this godforsaken cold. 

And it was the middle of the day, and there were people coming in, talking animatedly in Danish, because of course they were.

What other language would they be speaking?

She was chasing her tail about this, oh god. 

“I was asking if they had any suggestions as to how to deal with the fact that you’re wetting when you cough,” Arlan said quickly. “It would just be, uh, until you stop coughing.”

“Oh,” said Ellie. 

Her head was still pounding.

“I’m sorry,” said Arlan. “They’re out of, uh, they’re out of… of adult pull ups. They’ve only got… you know, fully fledged diapers.”

“Fully fledged diapers.”

Oh god.

She was really into this guy, and now he was suggesting… diapers?

Oh god.

Had she ever been this humiliated in her life? 

At least it would be easier to deal with than having to do laundry so much.

He was probably really sick of that.

Why was she okay with this?

The salesperson looked like they didn’t care, but then again, why would they?

They probably saw weirder stuff.

She was acutely aware of how… different she looked. Of her bright green hair, her screaming pink raincoat, even her (thankfully, dry) red high tops.

She didn’t belong here - it was like being a small child again, where everyone knew things you didn’t, and all you could do was tg along, no matter what you were actually feeling, in that moment. 

She was too sick to be so worried about this stuff, and yet….

Her mother had been right - she was making a fool of herself in this new country, and everyone was going to be judging her for being such an idiot. 

Arlan didn’t seem mad, at least. That was important. 

And at least she could be coughing without worrying….

“It’s up to you,” she said finally. 

“I’m sorry, darling,” said Arlan, and he kissed her temple.

She sighed, leaning into him, and he tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I’ll make you soup,” he told her. 

“What kinda soup?”

“Good soup,” Arlan reassured him. 

“What kinda good soup?”

“What kinda good soup would you like?”

“I dunno,” Ellie said, and she swallowed thickly, trying not to start coughing.

She needed to pee again.

This was what she got, for drinking all that water trying to get her throat to stop acting up.

“So we’ll get you some diapers, we’ll get you some cough treatment-”

“I don’t have the money for this,” Ellie said thickly.

To add insult to fucking injury. 

She was going to be diapered like an infant, because she couldn’t control her own bladder, and now she was about to start crying, from the humiliation of all of it. 

Why was this her life?

Why was this happening to her?

“Don’t worry about it,” Arlan assured her. 

“But -”

“I’d just be spending it on beer and eating out anyway,” he told her firmly.

Guilt sank into her belly, like a ball of hot lead.

“I feel like I’m taking advantage of you,” she said, and her voice croaked.

She was going to start crying.

She was going to start crying in the middle of a medical supply store in a foreign country.

“Are you sure it has to be… you know. That.”

“Hm?”

Arlan was looking at different types of cough treatment.

“Do they have… you know, pads? Anything like that?”

“No, unfortunately,” said Arlan. “I know, it’s… embarrassing.”

She was biting her lip, and she wasn’t going to start crying, she wasn’t going to start coughing.

She _wasn’t_. 

But her lower lip was wobbling, and she was beginning to shake.

“Honey?”

Arlan put a hand on her shoulder, and she took a deep breath.

Which made her start coughing.

Oh god… no, she wasn’t going to pee herself now. 

She wasn’t.

She doubled over coughing, her legs locking together, and Arlan held her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and his voice was sweet. “It’ll be okay. I promise. It’ll be okay, c’mon… shh….”

She sighed, and she leaned against him.

There were a few other people in the store, giving them odd looks, but… fuck it.

Her head was spinning - pounding and spinning, like the dance floor at an industrial rave.

That startled a laugh out of her, and that started another burst of coughing, and by the end there were tears dripping down her face, and she couldn’t breathe.

Arlan was looking at her with a slightly concerned expression. 

“Sorry,” she choked out. 

“It’s okay,” he said, and he patted her on the shoulder. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” she gasped, and she was still giggling, just a bit. 

He looked down at her, and he frowned, and took a napkin out of her face, to wipe her cheeks.

He was the type of man to carry napkins in his pockets - maybe that was what made him the functioning adult between the two of them. 

He had the forethought to bring napkins.

She sighed, and she wiped her face, as Arlan went to the register.

She could just… stand here.

She took deep breaths, trying to get her breath back, trying to get her mind back.

If she looked at this logically, it would be less embarrassing, right?

She’d managed to out logic her brain when it was trying to eat itself like this.

So she concentrating on what was no doubt the seed of a panic attack.

She stared at the labels in front of her… and then realized she was in the baby aisle. 

The actual baby aisle.

Sure, it was all in Danish, but there were bibs and bottles, little frolicking lambs, babies emblazoned on various packaging.

Seriously?

She sighed, and she went up to Arlan, who was at the register, holding a package of… yeah, those were diapers alright.

She was humiliated already.

Her face was turning dark red, and she was going to start hyperventilating again if she wasn’t careful.

Oh god.

She was shaking, and she hadn’t even realized how badly she had been shaking, until Arlan’s hand reached out to grab hers, giving her a squeeze. 

“When we get back,” he told her, “we can get you some soup and some medicine, and you’ll be as good as new.”

“I don’t want to be new,” Ellie said, and her voice croaked.

God, she sounded horrible.

This was all so horrible.

Although Arlan’s expression was soft as he looked at her.

And then they were paying, and the guy and Arlan were talking - the guy actually _laughed_ , and Arlan laughed along with him, and Ellie’s blush got harder.

She wished she knew what it was that they were saying - wished she could be in on the joke.

But what if she _was_ the joke?

… no, Arlan was a nice guy.

As far as she knew.

What if she’d just jumped into this too quickly, trusting some random guy she’d met at the airport.

Versus trusting some random guy who had catfished her, who was actually a kid, and she still got squirrely when she thought about certain aspects of that.

Oh god.

She was just bad at this - she was a mess. 

She was a fucking failure. 

Obviously, she was a fucking failure, how could she be anything else?

Her mother had been right - this whole trip was a bad idea, this whole everything had been a bad idea, what was she even doing with herself? 

“Ellie?”

Ellie was jerked out of her thoughts by Arlan. 

“Hmm?”

“You were spacing out,” he told her. 

“Sorry,” she said. 

“It’s okay,” he said, and he had the bag in one hand. 

He was holding her other hand out to her.

She took it hesitantly, and they left the store.

* * *

“Can I ask a nosy question?”

Ellie cleared her throat.

“What’s up?”

He swung her hand, just a bit.

He couldn’t help it - he was walking home, holding the hand of a pretty girl.

… and okay, maybe there was something that he liked about seeing her this vulnerable.

He liked the idea of taking care of her. 

“... what were you and the guy behind the counter laughing about?”

“Oh, Sven?” Arlan blushed, but he smiled, just a bit. “He’s, uh, he’s friends with my ex-boyfriend, and he had heard a really bad joke he had to share with me.”

“Oh?”

“... okay, so, uh, my ex, he was really into musical theater, right?”

Ellie nodded.

Arlan was blushing.

“Especially American musical theater. So one time, ages ago, when me and my ex were still dating, my ex made me watch West Side Story.”

Ellie nodded - she seemed to be following along, although her eyes were still a bit glassy with fever.

“So I was complaining about it at a later date - I… didn’t like it much.”

“Oh yeah? Why not?”

“I don’t really like Romeo and Juliet,” said Arlan. “If you don’t like Romeo and Juliet, why would you like West Side Story?”

“For the music, duh,” said Ellie.

“That’s what my ex said,” said Arlan, putting on an overly gloomy tone of voice for comedic effect. “But now, whenever I see the guy, he tells me some kind of West Side Story joke.”

“Oh,” said Ellie. 

She didn’t look like she had expected that.

In fairness, how could anyone?

“So, uh… he told me this horrible joke. You wanna hear it?”

“Sure,” said Ellie, because how could things be any more surreal?

She was walking through the streets with a guy who she’d met two days before, who she had fucked and peed on. The streets in a foreign country in a foreign city.

Talking about West Side Story, of all things.

“Why do sharks stay in the water?”

“I dunno. Why?”

“Because the sky is jets territory!”

Arlan was laughing at himself. 

It took Ellie a minute, but then she was rolling her eyes.

“That was horrible,” she told him.

“I know,” Arlan wheezed. 

“So why are you still laughing?”

“I have a horrible sense of humor,” said Arlan.

“Evidently,” said Ellie, but she was grinning at him. “Just don’t make me start laughing, or I’ll start coughing.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Arlan said.

“Yeah,” Ellie said, her expression turning uncomfortable. “Wouldn’t want to have to do another round of laundry.”

“I was thinking it would just be uncomfortable,” Arlan said quickly. “To cough.”

Ellie seemed very… touchy about the whole pants wetting thing.

Admittedly, he would have been too. 

Especially in her situation. 

He’d never had to worry about wetting his pants, but he’d had his own childhood embarrassment foibles. 

“Ellie,” said Arlan, “I’m okay. And you’re okay. Obviously, you’re not… okay-okay, since you’re still sick, but I don’t think any less of you.” 

“I know I’m being a burden,” Ellie said, and she sighed. “I worry you think I’m… you know. That I’m not capable as an adult.”

He shrugged.

“You’re what, twenty two?”

She nodded.

“Yeah. I was still pretty clueless at that age.” 

“Were you this clueless?”

“I stuck my dick in a toilet paper tube and couldn’t figure out how to get it out,” said Arlan, as they began to walk up the steps towards his apartment.

“... what?”

“You heard me,” said Arlan. 

“A _toilet paper tube_?!”

Ellie looked pretty flabbergasted. 

At least she wasn’t looking so self conscious anymore?

“Yeah,” said Arlan, and he dumped the bag on the floor beside the table, as Ellie went to sit down and untie her shoe.

He flushed, remembering the night before, when he had eaten her out. 

He kneeled in front of her again, and he took her foot in his hand, before he even had a chance to think about it.

She flushed, looking down at him, and he had a feeling that she was feeling whatever it was that he was feeling. 

Judging by how red she was turning…. 

The poor girl looked like a christmas ornament, and he smiled at her, and pulled one shoe off, squeezing her foot.

She wriggled her toes in his hand.

“So, uh, with the diaper,” he said, “I figure we could put you in it, and then, when you need to go to the bathroom, you could just… you know, slide it down.”

She was blushing very hard, and she was shaking, just a bit.

She looked like she was suppressing a cough.

“Yeah?”

She looked sad.

“Yeah. I know that, while I’ve never really wet myself, I know that you must be really embarrassed.”

“... I gotta know, why did you put your penis in a toilet paper tube?”

“I was kinda desperate,” Arlan said. “I think I was maybe… fourteen? I wanted to put my dick in _something_ , and I mean… a toilet paper tube was roughly the right shape, and was more or less readily available….”

“Oh my god….” 

Ellie was beginning to giggle, shoving her hands over her mouth, possibly to keep from coughing. 

“And let me tell you… it wasn’t pleasant. It was actually pretty far from pleasant. It was… it was unpleasant, to say the least, and then I had to ask my father to help me get it out….”

“Oh my god,” said Ellie, and now she really was laughing, curled in a ball, until her expression turned panicked, and she was dashing for the bathroom, still wearing one shoe.

She was so desperate to not wet herself that she actually left the door open, and he could hear her peeing.

He was blushing, his cock already getting hard in his pants, and that was a pretty new development.

Didn’t it usually take more time for a sexual fetish to develop?

Nobody just… developed one, out of the blue, because of one person, right? 

Ellie came out, still in one shoe, and she was blushing.

"I almost didn't make it," she admitted. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," said Arlan. "How about we, uh, we get you... protected, and then we can give you some tea, and then we can cuddle on the couch?"

"Do you have stuff you need to do?"

"I can do them when you've fallen asleep," he told her. 

"You think I'm gonna fall asleep?"

"You seem to be having trouble keeping your eyes open," said Arlan, and smiled at her in a way that he hoped was disarming.

"Right," said Ellie, and she sighed. 

She was blushing. 

"Are you okay?"

"It's...." Ellie took a deep breath, and then she started to talk, a whole flood of words. "Okay. So this is complicated, is it okay if I talk about it? Because it's a thing. I mean, obviously it's a thing, but...."

"Ellie," Arlan said, and he kept his voice gentle, because she looked on the verge of a panic attack. "Ellie. It's okay. I promise. Okay?"

Ellie took a deep breath, and she was squeezing her hands together, her knuckles cracking.

"I'm autistic," she said, in a rush. "And I didn't want to tell you, because I didn't want you to think... you know, that I was... that there was something wrong with me, or that I was defective or -"

"Ellie," Arlan said, and he reached out, cautiously taking her hands in his, "Ellie. It's okay. I don't think less of you for being autistic. Or anything like that."

"I was worried you'd think that, you know, I keep peeing myself or whatever because I'm autistic or something," Ellie said, and okay, now she was starting to cry - to ugly cry, great, heaving sobs, tears dripping down her chin, soaking into her shirt.

"Shhh," said Arlan, and he opened his arms up to her.

She cried into his chest, and she was shaking.

He held her, rocking, his lips in her hair, and she smelled like herself, and like peppermint.

"I've been so fucking stupid," said Ellie. "My mother was right, I shouldn't have done this, I'm not -"

"Ellie," said Arlan, and his voice was stern. He held her at arm's length, and he looked into her eyes, "Ellie, I want you to listen to me, okay?"

She snuffled, and she nodded.

"You've had a run of bad luck, okay? Not because you're autistic or because you're a bad adult, or anything else like that. You've just had some bad luck. And maybe it's... especially exciting bad luck, but that doesn't mean that it's a sign that you're doing anything wrong."

She looked at him, her eyes wide, and he wanted to kiss her so badly, right in this moment.

... so he did.

He kissed her on her mouth, and he was probably going to get her cold, but that didn't matter, because her tears were warm against his beard, and she was kissing him back, clinging and sobbing.

"You're... you're Ellie," he said against her lips. "And you've had bad luck, but... I mean, maybe you walked under a ladder or opened an umbrella indoors or pissed off a troll or something."

Ellie gave an awkward, hiccupy laugh, and he kissed her forehead.

Yep, still feverish.

"You want me to, uh... help you with the... the protection?"

"Okay," said Ellie, and she was blushing as well. "I'm not sure... you know, how to do this."

"I know how to do it on regular babies," he said, and she stiffened against him. "Not that you're a baby," he added quickly. "Just... you know. I only have a certain amount of... experience."

"I'm sorry I'm so touchy about this," she said, and her face was in his neck. 

"It's okay," he said, and his big hand was on her back, rubbing it. 

She sighed, leaning into him. 

"So shall we?"

"... okay."

* * * 

Ellie took one of the diapers out of the pack, and she was blushing.

She opened it up, and she spread it out, then looked at it. 

"... how do I know which end is the front?"

"The one with the tapes is the one that goes against your back," Arlan said, with some authority.

"How do you know that?"

"I've worked with kids before," he said. "And I know how diapers work."

"Oh. Right."

She was blushing so hard.

This was all so... weird.

She put his hands on her waist, and he was just... pushing her pants down. 

There was a pause, as she started to cough, and she pressed her legs together, and tried not to whimper. 

Oh god. 

She was not going to pee herself _now_ of all times! 

He made soothing noises, and then he was leading her to the bed.

She lay down on the bed, onto the open door, and it crinkled under her.

“Okay,” said Arlan, and his expression went thoughtful. “Can you lift your hips up?”

She nodded, still so embarrassed that she was possibly going to pass out .

There was more rustling, and then she was lying on it again, and he was… pulling it up between her legs, up to her waist, and he was… oh god, he was leaning over her, and when she peeked up, she could see the top of his head, as he began to tape the waist around her. 

“It’s so thick,” he said, and he sounded surprised.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“What are you sorry about?”

“... you know,” she mumbled.

“Not really,” said Arlan, and he smiled at her. 

HIs expression was soft.

She reached out, impulsively, and she patted his cheek, her thumb tracing across his cheekbone.

He gave her a loud, goofy kiss, right on the palm of her hand, and she giggled in spite of herself, affection breaking through the red mists of embarrassment. 

“You’re really cute,” he said. 

“You’re _diapering_ me,” she said, and her voice cracked.

The embarrassment rushed over her again, and she flopped back, to cover her face.

She as going to die.

She was going to die of humiliation.

Or lack of oxygen - she was starting to cough.

Arlan helped her sit up, and then she was leaning forward, and she was coughing, coughing hard enough that her face was starting to turn red - it was hard to breathe, her head was throbbing like a broken tooth, and she was sobbing. 

"Sh, sh, honey... it's okay," said Arlan, and he was rubbing her back.

Her legs were forced apart, and she could hear the crinkling of the diaper, and it was... it was so warm, it was so thick and puffy between her legs, and it was so warm, she couldn't deal with the warmth of it.

She was crying - she didn't seem to be able to stop crying, she was gasping and coughing, her nose running, her eyes running, and... oh god, she was....

She was pissing herself.

She was crying so hard, she had lost whatever dignity she might have had left, and she was still crying.

He was pulling her face into his chest, and she was clutching at his shirt, and she was _still_ crying.

"Shhhh," said Arlan. "Shh... it's okay...."

He was... he was rocking her, and she wanted to... oh god, she wanted to suck her thumb - she hadn't sucked her thumb in years, since her mother had started making fun of her for it, but she wanted to do it now.

"You are a mess," Arlan said, not unkindly.

"I'm sorry," Ellie said, her voice thick.

"What's are you sorry for?"

"I just peed," Ellie said, and she snuffled, wiping her face on the back of her hand.

Arlan kissed her forehead.

"Do you want me to put you in a new one?"

She shook her head. 

"It, uh... it wasn't a lot," she said. 

"... I forgot to get wipes and powder," said Arlan, and he looked sheepish.

It was such an... incongruous thing for him to look sheepish about, and that was enough to make her laugh - ugly laugh, snorting, hiccuping laughter, and she wrapped her arms around him, still laughing.

"It's okay," she said, and it was her turn to make vague reassuring noises, which made things even funnier, and she was laughing now, she was laughing so hard that her stomach hurt, and she was peeing some more, which would have made her cry harder, if not for the fact that she was already laughing, and it was all just hysterical energy flowing out of her like so much water.

... like so much piss, and she was holding on to him, as he held on to her.

"This isn't how I imagined this trip going," Ellie said, and her voice was a croaking disaster, but he was still looking at her with a fond expression.

"I wasn't imagining any of this happening either, if that helps," said Arlan.

Ellie's stomach sank.

"Sorry," she said. 

"No," he said quickly. "I'm not upset. I promise."

"Okay," said Ellie, and she sighed, and snuggled in to him, her head on his shoulder.

He kissed her forehead, and she sighed.

"You should have a nap," he told her, his voice firm.

"... can you stay with me?"

She hated the way her voice cracked, but... well, fuck it. 

She was running low on fucks.

"You want to nap on the couch? I can put a movie on, and I can do some work."

"Will the television bother you?"

He shook his head. 

"... okay," she said.

* * *

Arlan got her settled on the couch, and put the television on. 

It was an old kids show - there was a frog puppet and a parrot puppet, and they were both speaking Danish.

"Sorry, this is old," said Arlan. "Do you want me to find something for you in English?"

"Nah," said Ellie, and she cuddled into the couch, wrapping her arms around herself, her eyes already at half mast. 

She was wearing a pair of Arlan's pajama pants over the thick diaper, and a pair of even thicker socks, her toes curling against the sole of her foot.

... they were cold.

She was wearing her own sweater, at least, but the whole couch smelled like Arlan, and the Danish from the television was loud, flowing over her like a river.

She let her eyes slide shut, and she fell asleep.

* * * 

Arlan watched Ellie, curled up on his couch.

He'd watched this show when he was a kid - not this iteration of it, obviously - this was a newer one. 

But still - it was a bit like seeing old friends again.

He was smiling at her, as he sat at his table, his laptop in front of him as he typed away, poking at different bugs in his code.

She was snoring. 

It was an adorable, squeaky, almost buzzy snore.

She had wrapped herself up in the blanket that he usually kept draped over the back of the couch, and she was snuggling into it.

The diaper was thick enough to keep her legs spread, and her butt looked big and puffy.

He wanted to touch it. 

He wanted to do more than touch it - he wanted to curl around her.

... he wanted to grind against her ass while she was wearing a diaper.

Wait, what?

Arlan glared down at his dick, which was already getting hard against his thigh, and he sighed. 

"Okay," he said. "Quit it." 

Ellie made a quiet sleepy noise, and Arlan bit his lip.

Okay.

He had to be quiet.

He could do that. 

He tapped out on his keyboard, quietly, and he let the sound of his old childhood television show wash over him. 

It had started to rain at some point, and he sighed, his shoulders untensing.

He’d have to give Ellie some cold medicine at some point, but right now she was sleeping.

Sleep was good for sick people, right?

He’d read that somewhere.

… he thought.

Probably?

Crap.

He was googling before he even had a chance to think, checking to make sure that he wouldn’t accidentally kill Ellie.

… okay, good.

He was okay.

Arlan leaned back in his seat as he heard a rustling, crinkling sound. 

Ellie must have been having some kind of dream - she was squirming a lot, and the blanket was riding up, over her toes.

She was wearing his socks, and his feet were so much bigger than hers. 

She had such small feet - he could hold them in his hands without much trouble.

… and now he was thinking about sucking on her toes.

Arlan groaned (quietly), his head in his hands.

What was up with him today?

Ellie rolled over in her sleep again, and then she was snoring again.

Arlan smiled fondly, and then went back to the code.

When he finished this chunk of it, he'd check on her.

* * * 

Ellie woke up warm and cozy - almost _too_ warm and cozy, truth be told. She was sweating, and her hair was sticking to her face.

She sat up, her head foggy, and that seemed to set something up - her nose began to run, and then she was coughing again, curling up and panting, her chest closing up.

Arlan was rushing over, and he was fussing over her as he rubbed her back.

"Hey honey," said Arlan. "You have a good nap?"

Ellie yawned, and she nodded, shy.

"I, uh... I think I peed myself in my sleep again," she said, and she was blushing very, very hard.

How was she doing this?

Christ.

"Well, it's a good thing we had you protected, then," said Arlan.

"I'm sorry," said Ellie, and she sighed, too tired to cry anymore.

Her head was pounding - she had a nap hangover.

"It's okay," said Arlan, and he kissed her forehead. "You want me to put you in another one?"

"If that's not too much trouble," she said.

"Of course not," Arlan assured her. "I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't okay with it."

"Right," said Ellie, and she rubbed her eyes, trying to get her brain into some kind of working order.

Everything was sluggish - she was walking through some especially transparent jelly, and it was all just... far away, and foggy.

She yawned, and she let Arlan pull her into the bedroom, lie her down on a towel.

"... I forgot to get wipes," said Arlan. "After I change you, I'm going to the shops. Do you want me to bring you anything?"

Ellie, her eyes still half shut, shook her head.

She was in some quiet, peaceful place, and it was nice to listen to someone talking to her, it was nice to be warm and not cold, it was nice to have someone gently touching her. 

She blinked up at Arlan, and he smiled at her, like she was the best thing he'd ever seen.

"What do you want for lunch?"

"Um?"

"Lunch," he said again.

She shrugged.

"Is it lunch time?"

"It will be, soon."

"Oh. When did that happen?"

"While you were sleeping!"

Arlan was looking between her legs thoughtfully, as he stared down at her crotch, which was still resting on the open diaper.

"What's up?"

Ellie wanted to bring a hand up to cover herself, but was a bit too embarrassed.

"I was thinking how badly I want to eat your pussy right now," Arlan said, as if that was a thing that people just... said.

Ellie flushed.

"What, right now?"

"Oh yeah," said Arlan. "But I was also thinking I'd probably have to give it a quick wipe down."

"Right," said Ellie.

She was trying to resist the urge to cover her face. 

"Would you like me to?"

"What, wipe me down?"

"Well, yes, that too. But to eat your pussy."

"Um," said Ellie, and she licked her lips. "I mean... I wouldn't say no?"

"An absence of a no doesn't necessarily mean that the answer is yes," Arlan said.

"... fair enough," said Ellie, and she smiled at him, because something in her chest was swelling like a balloon. 

"So... is that a yes?"

"... sure. It's a yes," said Ellie. "Although if you want to clean me up, I'm, uh... I'm not offended."

"I'll be right back," said Arlan, and then he was gone, and Ellie was alone with her thoughts.

She was lying there, more or less naked.

Arlan had bundled away the wet diaper, and now she was lying on top of a dry one, her legs still wide open, and she could smell her own pee.

She didn't know how she felt about all of this.

But then he was back, with a warm, wet washcloth, and he was wiping her down carefully, as her toes curled, because he was getting... right where it was appreciated, right where it was... oh. 

Oh, that was... that was nice... that was nice in a way that she didn't know how to put into words, except that he was rubbing her clit, and it was enough to make her cover her eyes, grab hold of her own hair and twisting it around and around her fingers, the way she had when she was a kid.

She shoved a piece of her hand into her mouth, and she dug her teeth into it. 

The familiar pinch of her own jaws was grounding, and she sighed, as he pulled away the warm washcloth.

He was gone for another minute or two, and then his hands were on her inner thighs, and he was leaning forward, nuzzling into her thigh, breathing across her vulva, over her slit.

"You smell so good," he said. 

"Mmmm," she mumbled, and she was still covering her eyes. "I mean, um... it probably smells a little like pee."

He shrugged.

"It's okay," he said. "It's a pussy. It's one of the things that pussies do."

And then he was spreading her legs wider, nuzzling his face into the crease of her thigh, kissing along it, and then kissing along towards her vulva, and her toes were curling against his back.

Her chest was still all stuffed up, and it was kind of hard to breathe, but it didn't matter, because now he was kissing right over her clit, and she was... oh god, that was... that was perfect, that was exactly the spot where she wanted it, and he was licking along her slit, the very tip of his tongue right up against her clit. 

“I think this is my favorite place,’ Arlan said, right into her vulva.

“Mmm?”

She looked over the curve of her own belly.

“Your pussy,” he said, and he kissed it, a loud, comical kiss.

“What about it?”

“It’s excellent,” said Arlan.

“Are you sure that it’s not just the first pussy you’ve seen in a while?”

Ellie tried to keep the self deprecation out of her voice, but… well, certain things didn’t work that way.

“If I had sampled every pussy in the world, I’d still like yours best,” Arlan said, his tone earnest.

“... what, every pussy in the world?”

“... every consenting pussy in the world,” said Arlan, and he moved up, so that his chin was on her belly.

It was pointy, but there was something weirdly comforting about it. 

“Okay, fair enough,” said Ellie, and she was grinning.

“I shouldn’t have been so vague.”

“I’m just… overly literal sometimes,” said Ellie, and she was blushing now.

Arlan shrugged.

“Don’t worry about it,” he told her, and he kissed her belly agan.

She sighed, and she tangled her fingers through his hair, tugging on it, gently.

He sighed, and he nuzzled into her hand. 

She scratched his scalp, gently, and he kissed along her wrist, then the inside of her elbow, and then he was kissing along her belly, and his beard was ticklish, soft, bristly against her skin. 

She shuddered, her nipples getting hard under her t-shirt, and he was looking along the line of her body like she was the best thing he’d ever seen. 

Which couldn’t be true. 

He was… he was using his beard as some kind of sensation play… thing, and he was making her squirm, as she tried not to wriggle too much, tried not to pull on her own hair, tried not to buck her hips too hard.

“You feel so good,” she managed, and then he was pressing a delicate, gentle kiss to her belly, right above her navel, and then she was melting, straight into the bed. 

God, she hadn’t even realized that her belly was such a hot spot.

She was panting up at the ceiling, and her pussy was wet enough that she was beginning to get sticky on the thighs.

The diaper under her was beginning to soak it up,and it rustled like a thousand plastic bags.

Arlan was kissing down her belly now, loud, wet, smacking kisses, and she was sobbing like she was in pain.

“You feel so warm,” he said, “and I can smell you from here.”

She covered her face with both hands, and she was shaking, her toes curling against his sides.

“I should hope you could smell me,” she said, and she gave an awkward little giggle.

Arlan snorted, a burst of hot air against her skin.

“I can smell your pussy,” he said, and with his accent, the word “pussy” sounded especially… juicy.

Dirty.

He planted a wet, sloppy kiss right on her vulva, over her clit, and she groaned, her back arching. 

“Shhh,” Arlan said, his voice quiet, and then he was parting her labia with his tongue, sliding along her slit with the very tip of his tongue, and she was thrashing on the bed. 

He licked her, and then he wrapped his lips around her clit.

Ellie bowed off of the bed like something out of a horror movie - Arlan was going to have bruises on his ribs from her heels, and she didn’t fucking care, because his mouth was hot and wet and familiar, and she was gasping and thrashing.

“God, you taste so good,” he said, and then his mouth was back on her pussy, like he was trying to eat a particularly messy meal.

… she was struck, inexplicably, with the image someone at a pie eating contest, shoving their whole face into the pie and just… going to town.

She started to laugh.

Arlan didn’t seem deterred - he kept licking her, his hands on her inner thighs, holding her open as he licked and sucked, until she was drooling all over his face, leaving his face sticky with arousal, all the way up to his eyebrows.

He was making desperate noises, right into her pussy, and he was sucking on her labia, then kissing along her thighs.

She’d read somewhere, that it was a trick to get rid of a spare pubic hair on the face.

Maybe she needed to shave stuff - or maybe she needed to stop thinking about it, because he was licking and kissing, he was sucking on her clit, and who cared why he did anything, except that he kept doing it.

And then she was almost.. Wailing, because… oh god, his fingers were in on it to, the sneaky fucks, they were sliding into her pussy, and they were curling, finding her g-spot almost… perfectly, and she was sobbing, because he was rocking his hand, his tongue on her clit, and she was wriggling against him, she was trying to get more… something.

She didn’t know what he was doing.

But then his free hand was groping along her front, until it was right over her mons, and then he was just.. .pressing down, and it was like he was stimulating her g-spot that way as well, and how the fuck would he know about _that_ , what was he doing, studying how to make women cum?!

Ellie spread her thighs wider, and she just took it - took his fingers, took his mouth, took all of it, until she was cumming, the pressure in her gut breaking like a bone, and she was jerking her hips up, trying to catch her breath, and then there was… there was more, and she was clenching around him, she was squirting across his hand, and he was making delighted noises.

He pressed a final gentle kiss to her clit, and then he looked at her, his expression downright goofy.

“Hi,” she said, and she was flushing.

He had one of her pubic hairs on his nose. 

“Hi,” said Arlan.

“Do you wanna fuck me?”

“I just did,” Arlan said, and he was grinning.

“I mean,” Ellie said, “that was just kinda oral sex.”

“If don’t think of it as a “just,” personally,” said Arlan.

Ellie giggled, covering her mouth with both hands.

“What?”

“You’re cute,” she told him. “Do you want to put your penis inside of me?”

“I mean,” said Arlan, “if you’re offering?”

“I wouldn’t have… well, offered, if I wasn’t offering,” Ellie said, and she was giggling harder. 

At least she wasn’t coughing this time. 

... although even thinking that made her throat begin to constrict, and she sat up carefully, beginning to wheeze.

Arlan helped her up, and she was coughing again, groaning, panting, shaking. 

“Shhh,” he said, and he rocked her, then gave her a whack on the back.

She coughed up something… gross, and then Arlan was handing her a tissue, and that helped, spitting it out helped, and she blinked at him, her expression bleary.

“How did you have a tissue ready?”

“I always have a tissue ready,” Arlan told her.

Ellie giggled, and that led to more coughing, and more… well, the tissue was well used. 

It was disgusting, but… there was something gratifying about getting some of it out.

“I feel like i might have just killed our sexy time vibes,” Ellie rasped.

“It’s all good,” said Arlan, and he kissed her on the temple, snuggling in closer.

His beard was ticklish against her neck. 

She sighed, leaning against him. 

“I’m sorry I’m so gross,” Ellie said.

“You’re not that gross,” he assured her.

“I keep peeing on you,” she said. “To say nothing of all the mucus.”

“To say nothing of the mucus,” agreed Arlan. 

“So you’re saying that, were it not for the mucus, you’d be fucking the shit out of me?”

“Were it not for the fact that it appears that your own body is trying to drown you in mucus, I would totally be all over you,” Arlan said. 

“And you remember it,” said Ellie, before starting to cough again. 

Arlan gave her a whack on the back, and she coughed up something chunky and disgusting into the tissue.

“There we go,” said Arlan, and he kissed her hand. 

She was giving him the goofiest grin - she could already tell, probably full on googoo eyes - but he didn’t seem to care.

He just kissed her, gently, on the forehead, and nuzzled her cheek. 

His breath was warm, and smelled faintly of coffee. 

“What time is it, even?”

“It’s about four in the afternoon,” he said. “If I’m going to go out to get stuff, I gotta do it now. It’s gonna close soon.”  
“You were gonna miss out on all of that just to get your dick wet?”

“I mean,” Arlan said, “I like to think that us having sex amounts to more than just “getting my dick wet” for you….”

“Well, okay,” said Ellie. “But still.”

“... I might not have been thinking as straight as I could have been,” Arlan said, “and before you make the joke, yes, I know I’m not straight, and me fucking you doesn’t make me straight, but yes, you are very clever for thinking of that joke.”

Ellie pouted at him, but then she was giggling, because how could she really resist him, when he was being that silly?

He ran his fingers through her hair, tugging on it gently, and then he kissed her forehead.

“Ellie-belly, can I trust you to stay out of trouble while I go down to the shops and get wipes and more soup and baby powder and coffee?”

“I can totally stay out of trouble,” said Ellie, and she was still pouting.

He kissed her on the mouth, gently and sweet.

She kissed him back, and then she sighed.

“I’ll stay out of trouble,” she assured him

“Good girl,” Arlan said, and he patted her on the head.

She wasn’t sure if she was insulted or not, but… fuck it. 

“I should tape you into this first,” said Arlan, indicating the diaper.

Ellie made a face.

“I’d almost forgotten about that,” she said. 

“I’ll just tape you in,” he said. “Although I should probably wipe you down again.”

“Mmm?”

“You don’t wanna be all gooey, do ya?”

“... well, no,” said Ellie, and she wrinkled her nose.

“Exactly,” said Arlan, and then he was helping her lie back again, and he was pulling the front of the diaper between her legs, as she splayed her thighs open, and then he was just… taping her in.

It was humiliating.

It was the kind of humiliating that she didn’t even know she could live through, except for the fact that she was tired, and everything else was so fucking humiliating, so why change anything else.

She was rubbing her own hair between her fingers, and she was letting her eyes slide shut.

“You want to sleep some more, babe?”

“I probably shouldn’t,” said Ellie, and she yawned. “If I nap too much, I probably won’t get to sleep tomorrow.”

“You mean tonight?”

“Yeah, that too,” Ellie murmured, and she snuggled up to him. 

He kissed her temple, then gave her a pat on the crotch. “I won’t be gone long. Please don’t burn the house down.”

“I’m not going to burn the house down,” Ellie promised.

“Okay, good,” said Arlan, and he gave her another kiss, on the forehead this time. 

* * *

Ellie sat on Arlan’s couch, and tried to turn the television on.

The problem was that he had one of those fancy remotes - there was a button for three different kinds of input, only she didn’t understand the writing on the buttons, and when she began to click the different buttons, various things lit up, but the actual television… not so much.

Her head was still throbbing - her sinuses were stuffed full of concrete, and her exhaustion was making everything swimmy.

Was it exhaustion?

Was she still feverish?

The diaper was making her sweat - she probably shouldn’t have been wearing any pants - she was overheated. 

But looking down at the plastic made her blush, and the shame was wriggling in her gut like a snake.

… it was mixing up with the arousal, in ways that would probably make some psychologist somewhere take lots of notes, but that wasn’t really her problem anymore.

Thank god.

She flopped back into the couch cushions, aware that she was pouting, not caring enough to stop.

She was tired. 

She was so fucking tired, her head hurt, and she was… she didn’t like being alone in Arlan’s apartment. 

That was a bit of a revelation. 

She was comfortable enough when he was here, sure, but when it was just her, by herself… it felt weird.

She couldn’t put her finger on why that was, exactly, but she just… held on to the remote, and tried to resist the urge to suck her thumb.

It was a tried and true stim for her, admittedly, but, well… her mother had worked very well to train her out of it.

But fuck it. 

She was by herself, and she couldn’t figure out how to work the television.

So she shoved her thumb into her mouth, leaning back into the couch, letting the exhaustion settle over her.

Why was she even so tired?

Maybe the humiliation of wearing the stupid diaper was finally getting to her - could humiliation actually exhaust you?

If that was the case, she would have been a lot more tired when she was a kid….

And then she was laughing, as the absurdity crashed down onto her, and she was laughing around her own thumb, clutching the remote control with her other hand, as Arlan came back, looking windblown, carrying a plastic grocery bag.

“... hi,” said Arlan.

“Hi,” said Ellie.

“You okay? You look stressed.”

Arlan kicked his shoes off, and padded towards his kitchen, putting the bag on the counter.

“Are you okay?”

Ellie stood up, and her head was throbbing, just a bit. 

Her sinuses were still full of concrete, and... urgh.

“Yeah,” Ellie said, and her voice was quiet. “I think this is just, uh… you know. Awkward. Weird. You know?”

“Not really,” said Arlan. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel… I’m wearing a diaper. I’m an actual adult staying with you, and I’m wearing diapers. It’s just… you know. Embarrassing.”

Arlan shrugged.

“I don’t really care,” he said. “I mean… it’s weird, but plenty of things in life are weird. I’m okay with that.”

“... I worry you’re bothered by it,” Ellie said, and she was staring at her feet.

She was wearing his socks - they were thick, warm, and she was wriggling her toes inside of them, an old stim. 

“Ellie?” Arlan cupped Ellie’s face, and he kissed her on the nose. “Ellie, I know you’re worried. It’s okay. I promise.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.”

“... okay.”

“Good girl,” he said, and he kissed the top of her head again. “Okay. How about we cuddle up on the couch and we can watch a movie, and then we can eat some soup?”

“Can I have more tea, please?”

“Sure,” said Arlan. “Why don’t you get nice and comfy on the couch?”

“I’ll keep you company,” said Ellie, leaning against the counters, watching Arlan bustle around the kitchen. 

“Fair enough,” said Alan.

“What kind of soup did you get?”

“Just potato soup,” he said. “I’d make it myself, but I don’t have the brains for it right now.”

“Brains?”

“Yeah. Cooking uses up a certain amount of brain, you know?”

“Right.”

“So I don’t really feel like cooking. I’ll use some canned stuff. I’ll make it properly for ya some time, I promise, okay?”

“Okay,” said Ellie, and she yawned. 

Her eyes were half closed, and she watched him, twisting a piece of her hair around and around one finger, the same old tug, like a little reminder from childhood.

She sighed, and she watched him, until he was handing her a steaming cup of tea.

“There you go, honey,” said Arlan. “It’ll help the gunk in your chest.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” he said. “We can have a nice hot shower later, and you can steam.”

“Heh. You don’t wanna take me to the sauna?”

“I feel like it’d be a bad idea to bring you in sick,” said Arlan. “Wouldn’t want you to spread it around.”

“I wouldn’t wanna get anyone sick,” said Ellie, her voice quiet. 

“When you’re feeling better, we can go, okay?”

“Okay,” said Ellie. “Sorry,” she added, although she wasn’t sure why.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” said Arlan, and he kissed the top of her head, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, so that they were hip to hip.

She sighed, and she cuddled up to him. 

“I’m gonna make this up to you, I promise,” she told him.

“Make up for what, giving me a chance to take care of someone so cute?”

“Yeah,” said Ellie. 

“Oh no,” Arlan deadpanned. “The absolute horror.”

“... are you being sarcastic?”

“Yeah,” said Arlan. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” Ellie said, and tried not to sound too dismissive. I can usually tell sarcasm. Just… not when I don’t entirely get why it’s sarcasm.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” said Arlan. “I’m sorry.”

Ellie grinned at him - he was turning red now.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“I feel like I’m being awkward,” said Arlan. “But I’m not really sure how to… fix that.”

“Welcome to my life,” Ellie said, and she was giggling, a lot harder than she should have - she was laughing hard enough that she was coughing, and then she was peeing, and she really needed to not be peeing, but at least she was wearing the diaper.

Thank god for the diaper - she wasn’t leaving a wet spot on the couch.

And she was coughing, coughing hard enough that her face was starting to turn red, and then Arlan was taking the cup of tea out of her hand, and he was whacking her on the back.

She coughed up… well, really, best not to think about that.

She took a clearer breath, and she sighed.

“Arlan?”

“Mmm?”

“... I peed again.”

Arlan just… reached between her legs, squeezing the crotch of the diaper, and she flushed so hard that her heart was beating in her head.

She was shaking.

She was, for real and true, shaking.

She couldn’t stop shaking, and she was so horny that her heart was possibly going to explode.

… could her heart explode from being horny? Was she mixing up her metaphors?

Who fucking cared, because Arlan had just… casually reached over, gave her a squeeze, as if it was just a thing he did. 

As if caring for her was just a thing that he did, that he did it to take care of her, and it was just… it did something to her.

It did… it did something. 

She leaned in to him, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her shoulders. 

* * *  
They went to bed around eleven o'clock - Ellie fell asleep on Arlan, and he figured, well, might as well go to bed, right?

He changed her, and it was... it was easy.

It was so easy that he'd have been weirded out, except why be weirded out by something being easy?

He wiped her clean (god, she had an amazing pussy), he put her in a clean, dry diaper, he powdered her....

Ellie actually fell asleep as he was doing the last tape up, and if that wasn't a sign that she was getting used to all of this, nothing was.

It was kind of funny - he'd never really seen the appeal of the weirder fetishy stuff - the smell of too much leather made him sneeze, chains never did anything for him, leashes and collars were just... things.

But diapers - or at least, Ellie's curvy, warm figure in diapers - seemed to be enough to get his motor running.

But yet... here he was. 

He was standing here, looking at a girl sleeping on his bed in a diaper - snoring like a beast out of a monster movie, which was adorable in and of itself - and he was as hard as he had been as a teenager.

Maybe he could jerk off? 

... nah.

He was tired, and it felt weird to just stand here and jerk it while Ellie slept.

So he shook her awake, carefully.

Ellie blinked up at him, her eyes foggy.

"You fell asleep, darling," he told her.

"Did I?"

"Yeah," he said. 

"Why'd you wake me up, then?"

"I don't think you'd want to sleep with your legs dangling off of the edge of the bed," said Arlan.

"Oh," said Ellie, and she yawned again, then crawled further up, sprawled out on her tummy, her face in the pillow, beginning to snore again.

"You are adorable," said Arlan, and he was looking at the curve of her ass in the diaper. 

It really did give it more curve, and combined with the softness of her thighs... god, he just wanted to press his whole body against hers, put his face in her neck, and take in the familiar, foreign scent of her.

He went off to do his own morning routine, then came back in, his mouth still tasting like toothpaste, his face still tingling from when he'd washed it.

He'd used some of Ellie's peppermint soap... there was something nice about the feel of it on his skin.

He'd have to ask her where she got it, at some point - she didn't mind him using it.

And then he was turning the lights off, curling up around her side, and he was wrapping his legs around her legs, and she was nuzzling into his chest, before falling asleep again, snoring against him.

God, she was so warm... she was so soft... he grabbed her ass, and it crinkled under his hand, as his cock twitched in his pajama pants.

He wanted to touch her - he wanted to touch her all over, to fuck her, to... he wanted to do everything to her, everything he could think of, probably things he couldn't think of.

"Ar?"

"Mmm?"

"You've got a boner."

Ellie's voice was sleepy, and she sounded amused.

"Don't worry about it, babe," said Arlan.

"Can I tell you something dumb?" 

"Sure," said Arlan, and he tried not to wriggle his hips too hard. 

"I really appreciate the fact that you didn't make... you know, the joke."

"What joke?"

Had he missed some kind of cultural cue?

No, she said she was grateful for it.

Shit.

He was out of his league.

Did he even know what his league was?

"What joke?"

"When most people hear my last name, they make jokes about cannibalism," Ellie said. 

"... cannibalism?"

"Yeah. You know, the Donner party?"

"Not really, no. Sorry."

"... oh. Sorry. Of course you wouldn't know, you're not American. I'm sorry."

Ellie rolled over, and now her padded butt was pressed against his crotch.

Oh god.

He wasn't going to hump her. 

He _wasn't_. 

She was squirming, though, almost grinding against him. 

Oh god.

His cock was hard and leaking into his pajama pants, leaking enough that he was going to have a wet spot.

"It's fine," he said, and he kissed her on the shoulder. "I mean it. It's just... you know, a thing. I'm not super up to date on a lot of American folk stories."

"This one isn't actually a folk story" said Ellie. "They were a bunch of settlers, heading out West."

He nodded, not really paying attention.

She smelled like peppermint soap, like baby powder, like herself. 

“And then they, uh, they made a mistake, and a bunch of stuff kinda just… went wrong. So they kinda ended up stuck. And then they ate each other.”

“... oh,” said Arlan.

He hadn’t been expecting that.

“So when people see that my name is Eleanor _Donner_ , they tend to make assumptions. Because, you know, everyone in the US knows about the Donner party.” She paused. “Well, maybe not everyone.”

“No?”

“No, probably not. Whenever you say “everyone knows about” a thing, it’s usually not known by everyone-everyone, just by a lot of people.”

“Mmm,” said Arlan. 

She was so warm, and he snuggled in closer, trying not to poke her with his cock.

“You’ve got an erection,” she said, utterly spoiling his attempts at being subtle.

“Sorry,” he said, and he meant it, too.

“Why?”

“Because… I feel like I’m being a creep,” said Arlan.

“I don’t think you’re being a creep,” said Ellie, and she sounded like she meant it, too.

“... I’d very much like to kiss you right now,” said Arlan. “If that’s okay?”

“I don’t think you wanna get my cold,” said Ellie.

“I’d be willing to risk it,” said Arlan. “Unless you’re trying to… what’s the word… soft no.” 

“No, no, I’m not soft no-ing. I can hard no if I need to. I mean… wow, that sounded less dirty in my head.”

Arlan burst out laughing - he couldn’t help it.

She just sounded so… cute. 

"Are you laughing at me?"

She sounded faintly offended.

Crap.

"No, no," Arlan said. "Just, uh... you're cute."

"I do my best," Ellie said. "Are you... are you, like, less attracted to me because of the whole diaper thing?"

" _No_ ," said Arlan. 

"That was... more emphatic than I was expecting," said Ellie.

"I... seem to have discovered some things about myself," said Arlan, and he was blushing, nuzzling his face into her neck. 

His skin would probably be hot to the touch, now that he thought about it. 

But she shuddered, no doubt from the tickle of his beard, and she broke out in waves of goosebumps, which he followed with his fingers, stroking along the soft skin.

She was shuddering against him, and then she was arching against him, almost... sobbing.

"Do you want me to stop?"

His voice was quiet, right into the side of her neck.

"I will kill you if you stop," she said, her voice thick.

"Well, I certainly don't want to die," said Arlan, his voice teasing.

And then Ellie was rolling onto her stomach, and she was shoving her shirt off. 

"Keep touching my back," she said, her voice thick. "Please."

"You did ask very nicely," Arlan said, and then he was sitting on her ass.

The padding of the diaper made for a surprisingly comfortable seat.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Your fingers," Ellie said, her voice quiet. "Use the tips of your fingers, gently."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Like... oh... like... that, _fuck_!"

He just dragged his fingertips along her back, and she thrashed under him.

She wasn't coughing, at least - she seemed tired, except for when she didn't.

She shuddered, her face pressed into her arms, and she was trying to breathe, she was trying to... something.

Her skin was very warm, and she had a tattoo on her back.

It looked like a sun.

"Did this hurt?"

He traced his fingers along it - the tattoo was right on her shoulder, and the rays of it spread out.

"Yeah," Ellie said. "I could feel my shoulder blade vibrating. It was weird."

He leaned down, kissing the top of her shoulder, and she shuddered under him. 

He pressed another kiss, along her spine, and she arched her back, clinging to the sheets. 

God, she was gorgeous like this... she was so soft... he ran his fingers along her sides, the softness of her belly, the padding over her ribs.

"Good girl," Arlan murmured, and then he was kissing along her spine, little brushes of his lips.

"Do that again," Ellie mumbled.

"Do what again?"

"... call me a good girl," Ellie said, and her voice was thick. 

She sounded embarrassed, but she was wriggling under him, humping the bed, and she was grinding against his cock. 

"You're such a good girl," Arlan said, as he pressed kisses along her back, nuzzling the curve of her hip, which was partially covered by the plastic of her diaper, and of her pajama pants.

"Th-thank you," Ellie mumbled, and then she squealed, as he planted a loud, playful smooch at the curve of her back, as she squirmed under him some more, humping against him. 

"You want me to take that thing off and fuck you, baby?"

He pitched his voice a bit up - he was talking to her cutely, and he didn't want to stop.

She was still squirming.

"Okay," said Ellie, her voice quiet.

"How badly do you want it?"

"I want it really badly," Ellie said. "Please... I... I fucking want it.... "

"Ask again," Arlan said. "Ask me to take the diaper off and fuck you."

"Please take the diaper off and fuck me," Ellie said.

She sounded meek.

"... is this okay?" 

A little seed of anxiety was sprouting in Arlan's belly.

Shit. 

Was he doing this wrong?

"It's great," Ellie said, and her voice was thick. "It's... it really is, fuck, just please don't stop."

"What am I not stopping?"

"Don't stop... all of it. Talking to me, touching me, all of it. Just don't stop. Please don't stop. Don't ever stop!"

"You don't want me to _ever_ stop?" 

His tone was teasing, as he nibbled at her side, gently, and she squirmed some more, right under him.

It was simultaneously sexy, adorable, and very hard to stay on.

"I mean, eventually, you'll need to stop for, like, food and whatnot...."

"Obviously," Ellie said, breathless. 

She was still giggling, as he full on _bit_ her in the side, and she was cackling like a loon.

"That's _ticklish_ , holy fuck, that's... what are you even doing, what the fuck...." 

“Hmm?” 

He bit her again, and she made a noise that was somewhere between a moan and a cackle, wriggling some more.

“You’re tickling me,” she said, and she was laughing harder now, as he dug his fingers into her sides.

“Do you want me to stop?”

He stilled.

“No!”

“Well,” he said, “what if I were to… double it?”

He blew a loud, wet raspberry on her lower back, and she squealed, laughing harder, and then she was coughing again.

He paused, as she coughed it out, and then she made an annoyed sound.

“I think I just peed,” she said, her voice small.

“Are you still wet?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, I just peed,” she said, and she sounded embarrassed.

“No, I mean… are you still… aroused?”

“... yes,” said Ellie, and he could hear the blushing in her cheeks, even in the dark room. 

Arlan shoved his own pajama shirt off, so that he was bare from the waist down, his cock hard in his pajama pants, and he kissed along her shoulders as he ground his cock against her ass. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

He was speaking right into her ear.

She shook her head rapidly.

He ground his hips forward, and it was exquisite torture; he was _almost_ getting stimulation - there was pressure, and that was… exquisite, except it also wasn’t, it was the kind of torment that he did to himself sometimes, but… oh, fuck, with Ellie, it was so much more.

The diaper was so soft against him, and she was still wriggling, clutching at the sheets.

He was loath to take the diaper off of her, loath to do anything but keep holding on, to keep grinding his hips, and she didn't seem to mind, judging by the noises she was making.

"... Arlan?"

Ellie sounded sheepish.

"Mmm?"

"I think... uh, I think when I peed, it... it's all over my stomach," said Ellie, and she sounded embarrassed.

"Oh," said Arlan. "You leaked?"

"Yeah. Sorry."

"It's okay," said Arlan, and he kissed along her back. "We can worry about that... in a bit."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay," Ellie said, and then she was groaning, as he shoved her diaper down in the back, taking her pajama pants back.

"Wow," said Arlan. "You weren't kidding. You're, uh... you're damp."

"Sorry," said Ellie, and she sounded even more embarrassed.

"Shush," said Arlan, and he was pushing her legs open.

"Shush?"

"I mean," said Arlan, "I very much want to... I just want to fuck you. I want to fuck you so badly right now. And we should clean up, we really should, but... we've got other shit to do."

"We do?"

"... I'd like to do you," said Arlan, and somehow he managed to say it without bursting out laughing, but now she was giggling, and then he was pushing her diaper down further - hard enough that the tape tore, and then... mmm, there was the warmth of her pussy, and she was spreading her legs wider, her knees digging into the bed. 

"I'd be amenable for that," she said. 

He grinned, and he kissed her, right over the curve of her ass.

She wriggled it.

He spread her legs wider, and okay, yeah, there was... there was a lot of wet sheets, and that was kinda... gross, but fuck it.

It was just pee.

And now he was shoving his pajama pants down, and he was guiding his cock into her.

She was wet - she was wet with piss, she was wet with arousal, and when he slid his fingers between the lips of her pussy, and she was squirming, grinding her hips forward, into the wet diaper.

"You're so wet," he said, his voice thick.

"Well," she said, and she sounded embarrassed, "I _did_ just pee myself."

"You didn't pee that much," said Arlan, and he curved his finger, so that he was rubbing her clit.

The crotch of the diaper was wet against the back of his hand, and her pussy was sticky, almost slimy, against his palm as he ground forward, pressing down on her clit with his fingertip.

He groaned - her clit was hard, and her pussy was already so wet... he wanted to be in her, he wanted to be as deep as he could get, he wanted to... god, he wanted to eat her whole.

He wanted to tape the diaper back up, he wanted to hump against her ass, he wanted to hold her in his lap and grind up into the diaper, he wanted to curl around her and protect her from the world, he wanted... he wanted fucking everything.

He wanted to fuck everything, too. 

He wanted to fuck her in every way possible, he realized.

He wanted to... holy fuck.

He wanted all of this.

How the fuck did he want all of this?

He didn't usually fall like this - hard and fast, with an intensity that made her head spin, that made him want to do nothing so much as fuck her into the goddamn bed.

The wet bed.

Maybe he needed to get some plastic sheets.

What would it be like, to fuck Ellie on plastic sheets, to hear them crinkle?

... he wanted to get her a pacifier - he kept seeing her sucking her thumb. 

Maybe he could ask her to suck her thumb, the next time he fucked her on her back.

But for now....

"Ellie," Arlan said, "Ellie, can I... can I come in?"

"You're always welcome," Ellie said, and she was giggling, and the giggling turned into coughing, but that was okay, because she was breathing alright, and then his cock was just... sliding into her, just one long, sweet stroke, and she was clenching around him, shuddering, her head tilted back.

... her damp hair.

She must have gotten some of her pee onto her hair. 

Arlan was going to have to just give these sheets up - there would probably be green spots on the pillowcases.

Oh well. 

He was on top of her, and he was flexing his cock inside of her, as she clenched around him, panting, her eyes squeezing shut, her clutching at the sheets, rolling her hips back against him, panting. 

“You feel so big from this angle,” she said, and her voice broke, as he did something particularly clever, grinding against her clit, and then she was curling her toes, her head thrown back, and she was gasping, panting, sobbing trying to get him deeper, as one of his big hands went around to rub her clit.

His other arm was on the bed, resting on it, and then her hand was in his, and her hands were that much smaller than his, as she squeezed his fingers, and she was giving off little grunting, whining moans, as he dug his knees into the bed and fucked her like they were in some kind of porno.

He was grunting and gasping, moaning right into her ear, and he was sweating hard enough that his shirt was sticking to his chest, as he wriggled his hips, as he dug his fingers into her, as he fucked her and fucked her and fucked her, until she was sobbing and thrashing against him, because he was hitting her right here it was appreciated, and she seemed to be loving it.

“Don’t stop,” Ellie murmured, and then louder, in his small bedroom that smelled like piss and sex, like himself, like Ellie’s peppermint soap.

“You sure?”

He slowed his hips down, just enough to taunt her. 

“I’m… I’m sure, don’t stop, please don’t… please don’t stop, please don’t… oh god,” 

“If you’re so sure,” he said, and then he was speeding up again, and she was practically clawing at the sheets.

The wet sheets.

God, he could smell her piss, he could smell her sweat, her arousal, her desperation….

He wasn’t sure what language he was speaking in, but she was moaning, as he rubbed her clit and she wriggled against him, her mouth open in great, gasping breaths.

“Be a good girl for me,” he said, and then he said it again, and he wasn’t sure what language it was, except she was getting tighter around him, squeezing him like a vice.

“Fuck,” Ellie said, and then she was cumming around him, and he couldn’t stop shaking, his mouth wide open, and the sound of their fucking was filling the room, it was filling up Arlan’s head - the sounds, the smells, all of it was just… a mess, a sticky, sodden mess, and they were moaning, gasping, shuddering….

Arlan came inside of her, in a gush, and he kept rubbing her clit, until she was cumming in a gush and a sob. 

“God,” said Arlan, “fuck….”

“Mmm,” she mumbled, and she was flat. “Can we sleep?”

“No,” said Arlan, “you’re all wet, baby.”

“‘M not a baby,” she said, her voice sleepy.

“You peed yourself like one,” he said, and then he froze, because… shit, was that too far?

But she was clenching around him, a flutter of arousal. 

“You like that, baby?”

She shuddered.

“I… don’t know,” Ellie mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“... no.”

“What do you not want me to stop?”

“Teasing me.”

“Teasing you how?”

“Like… like this.” 

“Be more specific.”

“... I like you making fun of me,” Ellie said, and her pussy was clenching again, right around him. 

He kissed along her back. 

“You like me calling you a little baby?”

“... yes.”

“You like being my little baby?”

Arlan put a singsong edge to his voice, and his cock was squeezed again, harder.

“You like it! How about… how about we give the little baby a nice bath, to get all that piss off?”

She whined, a long, low noise in the back of her throat, her eyes squeezed shut.

“I… I want… please?”

“Please what?”

“Please give me a bath,” she said.

“Ask me nicely,” he said.

“... I did,” she said, and they seemed to have reached a bit of an impasse. 

“Okay,” said Arlan. “I’m gonna… pause. Pull myself out. Hold on.”

He pulled his cock out of her, and her cunt was wet, sticky.

God, he wanted to press his face into it.

Fuck.

“I like it when you baby talk me,” Ellie said, and she was clearly blushing.

“Do you want me to keep baby talking to you?”

“... yes, please,” she said. 

“Maybe… maybe if you’re such a little baby, you should use your baby voice, shouldn’t you?”

“B-baby voice?”

“Who’s my precious little baby?”

He kissed her forehead.

She sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and she was shaking again.

“What? Why?”

Shit.

Panic was beginning to set in. 

Oh god.

He was doing it wrong.

He wrapped his arms around her, and he kissed her temple.

“Ellie,” he told her, his voice quiet, almost sweet, “Ellie, it’s okay. I promise. It’s okay, everything is okay. If you want me to do… whatever to you, it’s okay. I promise.”

“Why are you so nice to me?”

“.. why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because… you know. You don’t have to be.”

Arlan held her in his arms, rocking her, just a bit, his lips against her temple.

“Ellie, you’re hot and funny and sweet and smart and a whole ton of other stuff. So how about you go take a nice bath, I’ll get stuff done, and then the two of us can go back to sleep?”

“... you’re not mad?”

She was using a sweet, little voice.

Oh god.

“No, honey. I promise.”

“Okay.”

* * *

Ellie sat in the bathtub, her eyes half shut.

Arlan had a rubber ducky.

Of course he had a rubber ducky. 

She had to fight the urge to chew on it.

She rested her head on the back of the tub, her eyes half shut, and she let her knees poke up over the water.

Her pussy was enjoyably sore, and her mind was in some nice, quiet place.

She could hear the quiet sound of Arlan shuffling around the apartment - he put things in the laundry, and then he was whistling to himself.

He wasn’t a very good whistler.

She liked that.

She liked that Arlan wasn’t actually good at some points, and she liked that Arlan was wearing an old shirt when he came in to see her again, smiling at her.

“Hi,” he said. “How are you doing?”

“I peed on myself,” she said. 

“Well, that’s what cute little babies like you do,” he said, keeping his voice teasing.

She flushed, sinking down into her bath water.

He sat down on the floor next to her with a grunt. 

He wasn’t wearing any pants - his cock was just… there, soft and against his thigh.

It was weird.

She wasn’t used to casual nudity.

Nudity was always a thing that was… taboo, and here she was, on her own, completely naked, and he was looking at her fondly. 

Her belly was very white in the lights of the bathroom, and her stretch marks were flushing red from the heat.

A wave of shame passed over her, and fucked if she knew why.

But he cupped her cheek, and she kissed his palm, looking into his blue, blue eyes.

“Hi,” she said quietly.

“Hi,” he said.

“I’m sorry this is all weird.”

“I mean, to be blunt,” he said, “I like weird. It’s more interesting.”

“Is it?”

“Oh yeah. It’s a lot better than just muddling along on my own. So now I’m feeling a lot less lonely. It’s nice to have someone to sleep next to, someone to talk to.”

“Even someone as stupid as I am?”

“You’re not stupid,” Arlan said, and he sounded… genuinely insulted.

“... what?”

“You’re not. You’re not stupid.”

“You don’t think I’m stupid?”

“Why the hell would I think you’re stupid?”

“Because, you know… I’m autistic. I pee myself.”

She began to cough, throaty, chesty coughs, and then she was coughing up… well, more stuff, and thank god for all that steam, because she was clearing it out, and she took easier, deeper breaths, spitting into the piece of toilet paper that Arlan offered her.

He flushed it.

“I don’t… I don’t think less of you,” Arlan said, and he kissed her hand. “Okay?”

“Okay,” said Ellie, and she sighed. “I’m sorry I keep getting anxious about this, again and again. I feel like we’ve had this conversation three times or something.”

“Meh,” said Arlan. “Sometimes stuff needs to be repeated.”

“You are a remarkably chill guy, you know that?”

“I do my best,” Arlan demurred.

Ellie giggled. 

“Come into the bath with me,” she told him. 

“... okay,” said Arlan, to her surprise. “Let me just… get naked.”

* * *

They sat in the hot water together, he had his arms wrapped around her.

Her eyes were half shut, and her hands were on top of his.

“Tell me a story,” Ellie said, aware that her voice was going sleepy and high pitched.

“What kinda story?”

“In Danish,” she said.

“You won’t be able to understand what I’m saying,” he said.

The hair on his chest was ticklish, almost itchy against her shoulder blades, and his beard was scratchy against her neck.

“I like how it sounds when you say it,” said Ellie. “Please?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Arlan said, and his voice went slightly higher, as he began to speak in Danish.

She let the ebb and flow of the words wash over her, and she closed her eyes.

* * * 

Ellie woke up gross.

She was a lot _less_ gross - she wasn’t coughing like she had been, thank god, and she was a lot less… gunked up than she had been.

Arlan still made her drink tea and take lozenges, and she spent most of the day napping on the couch.

She also stayed diapered.

It was… well, it was kinda nice.

She didn’t want to think too hard about it - she was buying into something… something or other, something that wasn’t something that she wasn’t sure that she wanted to like, except she did like it.

Maybe she was chasing herself in circles, and needed to stop worrying quite so hard.

So she napped on the couch, and let Danish children’s television gabble at her, and she drank soup when Arlan gave it to her.

* * *

“Arlan?”

“Mmm?”

She had her head on his chest - it was the evening, and he was enjoying the chance to relax with her.

His chin was on her head, and he kissed her on the temple, and she snuggled in closer. 

“Can we do something fun when I’m better?”

“Of course,” said Arlan. “What would you like to do?”

“... can we go into town?”

“Sure,” said Arlan. 

“... do you want me to go diapered?”

Ellie’s heart was beating very fast, and she wasn’t sure why.

Something… fraught was happening.

“I dunno,” said Arlan. “Do you want to be?”

“I don’t know if I want to be,” said Ellie.

“No?”

“I don’t want to… I don’t want to be the one to decide,” Ellie said, and she kept her eyes on the television. 

“Why not?”

“Because I like it when you make the choice,” said Ellie. “My whole life, I’ve been… I’ve been, you know, people just worry about me. People told me that it wasn’t fair for me to have to make my own choices, because I’m autistic, and there’s a lot of people who say that I can’t take care of myself, so I’ve always been taking care of myself. And I mean, I don’t… I don’t want to complain about the fact that I have to take care of myself. Everyone needs to take care of themselves. But… it’s nice to be taken care of.”

“Of course it is,” said Arlan.

“But I feel like I’m not supposed to… supposed to be okay with that. I’m supposed to be someone who is totally self sufficient.”

Ellie was beginning to shake.

… huh. 

She had more feelings about this than she had thought she did.

“I don’t think anyone is entirely self sufficient,” said Arlan, his voice slow and thoughtful. “As human beings, the shit that we do is… you know, we need each other. We depend on each other, as a species, to keep going.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” said Arlan.

“What do you get out of… well, like, taking care of me?”

“I like feeling… I like feeling needed,” Arlan said. “And maybe some of it is sexual -” 

“Sexual?”

“Yeah,” said Arlan, and his cheek was hot against hers. “It’s… it’s weird. It’s weird and probably kind of off putting, but it’s still… nice, you know?”

“Huh,” said Ellie. “I just… don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck with me.”

“I’m not stuck with you,” Arlan told her. “I like you being here. I like you being here with me, and I like the both of us doing things together.”

“Okay,” Ellie said. “I can’t really argue with that.” 

“I feel like you’d try to, if you felt like you could.”

“I mean,” Ellie said, her voice going a little contrary, “I might have, if I had thought that there was a reason for me to argue.”

“But you’re not arguing?”

“No, I’m not arguing.”

“That’s good,” said Arlan, and he gave her another kiss on the temple.

“How are you not sick yet is my next question,” said Ellie. “You should be.”

“I’ve got the very, very strong antibodies,” said Arlan. “Good Danish blood!”

Ellie snorted.

“I’ll probably get some mega virus in a few weeks,” Arlan said cheerfully. “That shit happens sometimes.”

“Literally, in that case,” said Ellie.

“That sounds more like food poisoning,” said Arlan. 

“I’ve never actually had food poisoning,” said Ellie. 

“No?” 

“No,” said Ellie. “I’ve had weirdly good luck with that.”

“I feel like you’re tempting fate by saying that,” said Arlan. 

“I don’t believe in fate,” said Ellie, and she snuggled in closer to him, her nose in his neck.

“No?”

“No. I make my own fate.”

“Do you now?”

He sounded amused.

“Totally,” Ellie said. “I’m not supposed to be able to do, like, any of the shit I can do. So I make my own fate.”

“I can’t really argue about that,” said Arlan, “but I really feel like I should.”

Ellie snickered.

“If you can’t argue, then it means I win,” Ellie said.

“So this is a winning type situation now?”

Ellie grinned.

“Everything in life is a win or lose situation,” she said.

Arlan was going very stiff next to her. 

“I don’t think so,” he said, and he was going stiff against her.

“I’m sorry,” Ellie said quietly. “I said the wrong thing.

“No,” said Arlan, and he kissed her temple, and squeezed her. “It’s… I grew up with someone who was very much into telling me that I should be tougher, or that I was strange for not caring about that kinda thing.”

“I don’t think you’re strange,” she said. “Or at least… I don’t think you’re any stranger than I am.”

He grinned, and he nuzzled into her neck, his beard ticklish and familiar against her neck. 

Already he was… he was comforting, he was familiar.

It was like she’d been searching for something her whole life, and then all of a sudden she found herself.

… maybe she was just being silly.

“If you’re not coughing as much tomorrow, we can go for a little trip into town,” said Arlan. “Maybe walk by the river, look at the ducks, eat some local food.”

“Yeah?”

She snuggled into him. 

“Yeah,” he said. 

“... I don’t want to be diapered when we’re out,” she said. “I think people would be able to tell.”

“Would you worry about them knowing?”

“I mean,” said Ellie, “I don’t think anyone wants to know about the state of my underwear. Apart from, you know, perverts.”

“Right,” said Arlan. “Although nobody would judge you for it.”

“Right,” said Ellie. 

“But we’ll see if you can hold your pee tomorrow. How does that sound?”

She was flushing, and she snuggled in closer.

“... I kinda like the diapers,” she admitted.

“Do you?”

“Yeah,” she said, and she snuggled closer.

“Any particular reason why?”

“... I like how… you know… how….” She sighed, and snuggled in closer.

“Hmm?”

He made an encouraging noise.

She sighed, as his big hand rested on her back. 

“I like how you take care of me,” she said. 

“Well, I’m glad,” he said. “I like taking care of you.”

“Why?”

Had they had this conversation before?

She was getting sleepy, and his hands were doing sweet, nice things to her back, making her relax further.

“I like caretaking in general,” he said, “but… I especially like it with you.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“I like… I like feeding needed. “I like knowing I’m making someone so happy.”

“Is that why you like eating my pussy so much?”

“It’s one of the reasons, yeah,” he said. “I also just… like pussy.”

“I like pussy too,” said Ellie.

“Do ya, now?”

“Oh yeah,” said Ellie, and her eyes were drifting shut. “I’ve always been a big fan of them.”

“Always?”

“At least, since I hit puberty,” she said.

And then she was asleep.

* * *

Arlan woke Ellie up.

“C’mon, honey,” he said, right in her ear, and she just made a quiet noise, snuggling closer to him. 

“How can you sleep so much?”

“I’m sick,” Ellie grumbled.

“Well, yes,” said Arlan. “But still.”

He made an amused noise, and kissed the top of her head. 

“Do you want more tea?”

“I want more tea,” Ellie said, and she yawned, wide enough that her jaw cracked.

“What kinda tea do you want?”

“Good tea,” she mumbled, and she wrapped herself in a blanket, then let her eyes slide shut, beginning to sleep again.

She did seem able to sleep so much.

He envied her that gift - he’d always had trouble sleeping.

But… fuck it. 

Okay. 

He watched her, and he was smiling in spite of himself.

The diaper made her butt puffy and thick, and he wanted to rub it. 

He could, theoretically, do so.

But she was still sleeping, flat on her tummy. 

She was snoring.

He was beginning to think that Ellie could sleep through _anything_. 

And he was… was he hard?

He wasn’t sure.

Wow.

He’d always thought that he knew his own sexuality, his own attractions, more or less.

And here he was, drooling after a girl in a diaper.

… oh well.

It wasn’t as if he was that old.

… fuck it.

He was going to enjoy it. 

He was going to enjoy himself.

And Ellie’s snoring slowed down, then sat down, and she sat up.

“Hi,” she said, and she rubbed her eyes. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” said Arlan. “You look like a sleepy sheepy.”

“My hair isn’t curly enough to be sheepy,” she said.

“Not a comment on having _green_ hair, just not curly hair?”

“There can be green sheep,” said Ellie. 

“Can there be?”

“Vegetable lambs,” said Ellie.

“What’s a vegetable lamb?”

Arlan put the teabag in the mug, watching as Ellie rubbed her eyes.

“They were a… thing, in ye old days.” 

She made a hand motion.

“How olden are we talking? Early Mickey Mouse ye old days?”

“Marco Polo days,” said Ellie. “I think.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So what about vegetable lambs?”

“Hmmm?”

“You mentioned them. What about them.”

“Oh. So the Crusaders saw things like cotton, stuff like that, and they were all “Oh, that must have come from an animal.” So the locals, they saw these idiots, and they said “Oh yeah, it’s a vegetable lamb!” which was utter bullshit, obviously.”

“You don’t think there could be vegetable lambs?”

“I don’t think that you could have an animal that was also a vegetable,” said Ellie. 

“Vegetable lambs are a cute idea,” he said.

“Sometimes it got sad,” said Ellie. “Because… you know, a lot of the time the vegetable lamb would eat all of the food around it, and then it would starve to death.”

“... that is sad,” said Arlan, making a face. 

“Sometimes they escaped,” Ellie added quickly. “Usually by, you know, snapping the umbilical cord to the plant. And at the same time, it totally makes sense that they get away, because how else would you get a new vegetable lamb?”

"Did people in those days know about that sort of thing?"

"What sort of thing?"

"Plant propagation."

"They had to," said Ellie. "How else would they have been able to plant their fields?"

"... fair point," said Arlan.

There was some quiet, as Ellie woke up, and Arlan got the tea ready, then brought it to her.

"If you can be dry tonight, we can go out tomorrow," he told her.

"Okay," said Ellie, and she smiled at him, blushing.

* * *

Ellie didn't stay dry that night - a coughing fit hit her so hard that she flooded the diaper, and she couldn't even complain about the unfairness of it, because she was so damn tired.

She slept most of the next day, diapered and secure, drinking tea.

It was a quiet day.

The next day, she woke up dry. 

“So we can go into town today?”

“Sure,” said Arlan. “But I need to get some work stuff done first.”

Ellie nodded, and she took a deep breath, with only a minimal amount of wheezing.

She was getting better, thank god. 

“I’m going to cook for you,” she told Arlan, her tone earnest.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah!”

Ellie paused in her getting undressed. 

“Are you okay?”

Arlan shot her a concerned look.

“I don’t… I feel weird, ‘cause I like wearing the diapers.”

“Do you want to wear it out?”

“I can’t wear it out unless I use it too much,” Ellie said, and she was giggling, just a little.

Arlan gave her a Look. 

Ellie giggled harder, and she covered her mouth with both hands to keep it from turning into full on cackling.

“So,” he said, “do you want to go into town?”

“Yeah! I want to go to a museum and eat whatever the local equivalent of a hot dog is, and I want to feed the birds.”

“That is completely doable,” said Arlan, and he offered her his hand. 

She took his hand, and she kissed the back of his knuckles.

He blushed a bit, and that made her smile.

It was cute to see him get blushy - it was nice to know that someone else got awkward. 

* * *

Arlan tied Ellie’s shoes for her. 

“I like doing it,” he told her, and he was looking up at her.

He could almost see up her skirt from here.

Not that he was thinking about that.

… no, that was a lie, but he was trying not to think about it too hard. 

“Why?”

“Like I said,” said Arlan, “I like taking care of you.”

He stood up with a grunt, rubbing his lower back and making a face.

“I don’t think it’s good for your back,” she told him, her tone serious.

“My back is my own business,” he told her. “You’re too Little to worry about me.”

She flushed so hard that her head began to pound.

“Oh shit, sorry,” said Arlan. “I’m sorry, I was… I thought we were doing a thing, but… it’s not quite so -”

“No, no,” Ellie said quickly. “No, it’s fine. I promise.” 

“Was I overstepping?”

“No,” said Ellie, her voice thick. 

She was wet between the legs, her skin breaking out in goosebumps. 

“Do you want to… I mean, if I were to wet myself again, would I have to… you know, would you diaper me again?”

“I guess I would,” said Arlan. 

His expression was very… interested. 

“Yeah?”

“If you can’t be trusted, yeah,” said Arlan. “Although if you used your words and asked me, I’d also diaper you.”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?”

Ellie pouted, and she wriggled her toes in her shoes.

“I dunno,” Arlan said, and he looked contemplative as he slipped his own shoes on. “Could be a fun way to embarrass you.”

“I can assure you,” Ellie said, “I don’t need someone else to help embarrass me. I do it all on my own.”

“I feel like I should argue with you on that,” said Arlan, “but I’m not sure what I’d say.”

Ellie grinned.

“I feel like complete and utter bafflement means something,” said Ellie, as the two of them began to make their way outside.

* * *

It was a nice day.

The sun shined, but not too brightly.

Arlan held Ellie’s hand, and she would squeeze it occasionally. 

There were people around - not a lot of them, as they wandered around the city center.

It wasn’t even that overwhelming, thank god - sometimes she was overwhelmed by cities.

But not here - it was relatively quiet.

“Do you want to try some Danish candy?”

They were in front of a candy store.

“Sure,” said Ellie. “Is there anything special?”

“Well,” said Arlan, “there’s always the salted licorice….”

“Salted… licorice.”

“It’s a thing,” said Arlan. 

“ _Why?_ ”

Arlan shrugged.

Ellie giggled a bit in spite of herself. 

“I’ll try almost anything once,” she told him.

“Almost anything?”

“I’ve got limits,” said Ellie. “It’s not like I’m going to eat, like, tomatoes, or something like that.”

“Do you not like tomatoes?”

“I don’t like tomatoes,” said Ellie. “I like stuff made from tomatoes, but for some reason I don’t like the tomatoes themselves.”

“Is it the texture?”

“That might be it,” said Ellie. “They always just come off as… squishy to me.”

“Squishy is no go?”

The candy store was crowded, and people were talking to each other in rapid fire Danish - there were small children, begging their parents for candy.

Ellie felt a pang - she’d never really been allowed to act like that. 

How would Arlan react, if she tugged on his sleeve and begged him for candy?

Not that she knew what any of this candy actually was….

Some of it seemed pretty obvious - a gummy bear is a gummy bear, a bonbon is a bonbon, regardless of where you were.

… unless they weren’t?

Was Ellie thinking too deeply into this?

Probably.

“Hey, Arlan?”

“Mmm?”

“What kind of gummy bear flavors do you have?”

“What?”

“Gummy bears. What flavors do you have.”

“Oh. Just the usual ones.”

Ellie snorted.

“That’s not helpful, y’know?”

“Hmm?”

Arlan looked down at her, his expression fond. 

The whole store smelled like sugar, like chocolate, like things that would make your teeth rot if you looked at them sidelong.

“What even are the usual ones?”

“You know… red, yellow, green….”

“Yeah, but, like… what flavor are they?”

“What do you mean?”

“What flavor are they?”

“I told you - red, yellow -”

“No, those are colors,” Ellie insisted. “Those are colors, not flavors.”

“Sometimes colors are flavors,” Arlan countered. “Blue raspberry is a flavor, after all.”

“That has a fruit name in it!”

“Yes,” said Arlan, “but it also has a color in it.”

“But the fruit is what does it, not the color,” said Ellie. 

She was leaning against him, looking at all of the candy around them. 

It was… it was overwhelming.

All the sights, all the smells, all the… well, everything.

She clung to his arm. 

“What do you want, precious?”

Arlan kept his voice quiet.

“I want… gummy bears. Gummy everything. When I was uh, talking… when I was talking about coming here, everyone mentioned that I should try candy here, since you guys don’t do high fructose corn syrup.”

“I had some of the candy, when I came to visit America,” said Arlan. “It was… unpleasant.”

“Unpleasant?”

“Yeah. My stomach… rebelled, to say the least.”

“Huh,” said Ellie. “Somehow, I can’t imagine you having stomach problems.”

“It wasn’t just stomach problems,” said Arlan, making a face. “I got the full on scoots.”

“Full on scoots. Not just partial scoots?”

“How would partial scoots even work?”

Ellie made a face.

“Now I’m thinking about it,” he said, and he sighed. “That’s gross.”

“You’re the one who started it,” Ellie said. 

“No, I didn’t,” said Arlan. “You did.”

And then the lady behind the counter was speaking to her in rapid fire Danish, and Ellie was completely lost. 

Okay.

How was she going to do this?

She just… pointed.

She pointed to the jars that looked interesting, because what else was she gonna do?

The lady gave her bits and other pieces of all the things she asked for, until she had a whole big bag of bright colors. 

Arlan paid for them, and then the two of them were leaving the small shop.

Ellie gave a sigh of relief.

It was… it was too close in there, and too many things happening at once.

She leaned against Arlan, and he wrapped an arm around her.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” Ellie said. “I think it was just a bit too… much.”

“Too much what?’

“Too much sound. Too much… scent. Too much… you know.”

She made a vague hand gesture.

He nodded. 

“In, uh… in Scandinavian winters, sometimes we get big chunks of time where we end up kind of… you know, on our own. We don’t see much of other people, and since we don’t see much of them, it can get overwhelming.”

Ellie nodded.

“I get… I get overwhelmed easily, sometimes,” she said. “And I think I might be a little bit out of practice.”

“Practice?’

“Yeah,” said Ellie. “I need to… keep in practice with seeing other people, for lack of a better way of putting it.”

“That does sound about right,” Arlan said, as they made their way towards a park. “So what would you like to do now?”

“... can we go eat a kebab or whatever and watch the ducks?”

“That is an excellent plan,” said Arlan, and he took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers. 

* * *

Ellie sat in the sun by a small pond, watching the birds paddle around, and she ate a kebab.

Arlan sat next to her, and he tried not to… hover.

Her green hair caught the light, revealing new hues, and her skin was pale enough that it practically glowed in the sun.

… he, admittedly, had no room to judge about that kind of thing, considering how pale he was, but still.

It was… it was cute.

He thought everything she did was cute, holy fuck.

Just how bad did he have it?

… pretty fucking bad, come to think of it. 

“Kebabs are pretty good. They’re different, obviously.”

“Yeah? How?”

“The meat is different,” Ellie said. “It tastes different.”

“It’s probably not high fructose corn syrup,” Arlan said. 

“So what happened when you had that? In the US, I mean.” 

“I had a horrible stomach ache,” said Arlan. “It sat in my gut like a boulder.”

“What did you have?”

“It was gummies, actually,” said Arlan. “They gave me such a headache, too.”

“Are you sure you’re not just some kind of super delicate… something or other?”

“I don’t think I’m much of a something or other,” said Arlan, and he grinned at her, in hopes of taking the meanness out of the joke.

“You’re plenty of something or others….”

She paused, and then she was blushing.

“Sorry,” she said. “I must sound like some kind of idiot.” 

“Not really, no,” he said. “It’s fine. I promise.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” said Arlan, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and he kissed her on the temple.

She was warm. 

She was warm, and she smelled faintly like the sun, even though she hadn’t been sitting in it that long.

He could smell the baby powder, faintly, and he blushed. 

What if she had gone out wearing the diaper?

… now he had an erection.

Um. 

Welp. 

This was, uh… this was awkward.

He cleared his throat, and he shifted. 

Ellie shot him a sidelong look. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Arlan said. “I’m, uh, I’m fine.”

“You sure? You’re turning all pink.”

“You’ve got some doner sauce on your nose,” Arlan said. 

“... what?”

“Doner sauce. These are doner kebabs.”

“... are you just saying that because my name is Donner?”

“What?”

Then it dawned. 

“Oh.”

“So… you’re not just saying that?”

“No. They’re doner kebabs.” 

“Why? Are they, like, made of people or something?”

“... not as far as I’m aware?”

Arlan was aware he sounded faintly lost. 

“The Donner party,” Ellie reminded him.

“Oh! Right!” 

Arlan was blushing again, but he was also laughing.

“In my defense,” Arlan said, “they’re spelled differently. At least, I assume they’re spelled differently in English. They don’t, uh… they don’t really spell your last name. Since it’s an English name.”

Ellie leaned over, and she kissed him on the cheek. 

“You’re adorable,” she told him. 

“I thought you were the cute one in this relationship,” said Arlan, and then he froze again, because _shit_ , should he have used the “r” word?

“We can both be cute,” she told him. 

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” she said, and she grinned at him.

With the sunlight beating down on them like this, he could see the shadow her eyelashes cast across her cheeks.

He wanted to kiss her, right here and now. 

And he could!

So he did!

He kissed her, a sweet, soft peck, and she tasted like doner sauce, and like herself.

“Can I have some of my candy?”

She was eyeing the bag.

He made a face.

“That stuff is pure sugar. You know that, right?”

“Oh yeah,” said Ellie, and she grinned. “That’s part of the fun!”

“You _like_ being so buzzed on sugar that you can’t even sit still?”

“Yep!”

“Better you than me, then,” said Arlan, and he smiled at her again, as she leaned against him, pulling the bag of candy open and taking a handful of gummy bears.

She ate them delicately, one at a time, and her face seemed to light up every time she took a bite of one, chewing it happily.

He took a bite of one of them, and the sweetness just exploded into his mouth.

“Wow,” Arlan said, and he coughed, then took a swig of water.

“Good, right?”

She was grinning widely.

“They’re… sweet.”

“You didn’t even try the sour ones!”

“Those will be coated in even more sugar!”

“These are less sweet,” Ellie said, digging into the strata of the candy, to draw out another handful of gummy bears.

She offered him one, and then ate the rest of them in one big, happy handful.

… they were still sweet - sweet enough to make his whole face screw up.

“Baby, you are going to _die_ from, like… sugar shock.”

“There’s no such thing as sugar shock,” Ellie told Arlan. 

“There totally is.”

“There isn’t!”

“I can look it up,” Arlan said. “Online, even.”

“Okay, so maybe it’s a thing,” said Ellie, and she took another bite of her sugary mix, “it’s a lot better than what we have in the states.”

“Yeah? What makes it better?” 

“It doesn’t taste as… something or other. It’s… hmm….”

Ellie leaned back against Arlan, her expression thoughtful. 

“Hmm?”

“You know how you were talking about high fructose corn syrup?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m beginning to notice it. It’s less… waxy than I thought it would be.”

“Waxy?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re gummies, El,” said Arlan. “Of course they’re waxy.”

“They’re still less waxy,” Ellie insisted. “You just need to try the American ones.”

“I’d get such a stomach ache from that,” said Arlan, making a face.

“You said that eating any kind of high fructose corn syrup would give you a stomach ache, regardless of what it is.”

“Well, yes. And I suppose it’s better than soda.”

“Soda?”

“Yeah. Although we don’t drink as much of it as you guys do.”

“Americans drink too much soda in general,” said Ellie. “I don’t like the way it makes my throat burn?”

“... burn?”

“Doesn’t soda feel all… burny to you?”

“Not really, honestly,” said Arlan. “I mean, it’s kind of unpleasant, but it’s not burning.”

“I once saw someone describe fizzy water as tasting like static sounds,” said Ellie.

“... huh,” said Arlan.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer, until they were thigh to thigh.

He rested his temple on her shoulder, taking in the scent of her, of the sun.

She was so warm, and the sun kept catching in her hair.

“I don’t like fizzy water,” Ellie said. “I used to love soda, when I was a kid. I ate so many sweets back then.”

“Back then,” Arlan said, eyeing her big bag of candy.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

He kissed her, and she tasted like sugar.

He kissed her, and then she was pulling back, and she was feeding him another gummy bear with her fingers.

This one was a sour one, and... oh.

Ellie burst out laughing, and Arlan sputtered, and began to chew, making a face.

“This is like chewing on a squishy sugar cube,” he told her.

“A delicious one,” she told him.

“You are gonna be bouncing off the walls like a hummingbird on acid,” he told her.

“Why on acid, specifically?”

“I figure it would mellow the hummingbird out,” said Arlan.

“Hummingbirds are awfully belligerent,” Ellie said. “When I was growing up, I used to think they were still convinced that they were t-rexes, only they could fly now.”

“I didn’t think they were real,” Arlan said.

“... what?”

“We don’t have them, here in Denmark. I didn’t see ‘em ‘til I went to a zoo. At which point they kept trying to dive bomb me.”

Ellie giggled.

“I guess part of it was my own fault. I probably shouldn’t have worn that red hat.”

“Yeah, that would do it,” Ellie said, and she yawned. “So if you don’t have hummingbirds, what do you put feeders out for?”

“Oh, loads of stuff,” said Arlan. “We’ve got a whole bunch of birds. We even have kingfishers!”

“What, really? I thought they only lived in tropical places!”

“Nope,” said Arlan. “I used to see them when I went on fishing trips.”

“You went on fishing trips?”

“I mean,” Arlan said, “it was literally me sitting in a boat staring into space for hours at a time. Nothing exciting. I barely caught any fish.”

“Oh,” said Ellie. “That sounds... either relaxing or like it would make me crazy.”

“You seem too fidgety to be comfortable with sitting that still for so long,” he told her, and he kissed the top of her head.

She rolled her eyes and sat up fully, eating another handful of gummy bears. 

“I could do it,” she told him. “I can sit still, when I have a reason to. I just… haven’t.”

“No?”

“No. You like it better when I’m moving around.” 

She shot him a flirty grin, and he grinned back at her in spite of himself. 

… god, he had it bad.

She was jiggling her leg, and he rested a hand on it.

He was bounced. 

“... that doesn’t count,” she told him. “I had too much sugar.”

“I could have told you that,” he said, teasing.

She took another handful of gummy bears.

* * * 

Ellie’s belly started to make unhappy noises when they were walking home.

… well, okay, the gummy bears kind of sat in her gut like a cannonball. 

It was… unpleasant.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Ellie said. 

“Are you sure?”

“If I say I’m okay I can pretend I am,” said Ellie, through clenched teeth. 

That was a lie.

She knew it was a lie.

He probably knew it was a lie.

But fuck it. 

She groaned, leaning against him, and her belly clenched again.

She was going to fart in a minute.

A bad fart.

She paused. 

Oh god. 

“Um,” said Ellie. “I have to… I have to go to the bathroom.”

“We’re almost home,” said Arlan, and it was a lie as well, but still.

Ellie clung to Arlan’s arm. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Arlan,” Ellie said, and her voice squeaked. 

Oh god.

Her stomach was still churning.

She dug her fingernails into his arm, until he was making vague protesting noises, and then she was tripping, and... oh… fuck.

Her belly gave up the ghost.

And then she was… oh god… she was….

She shit her pants. 

She full on shit her pants. 

She was on her knees, and she was… oh god.

This was just humiliating. 

How was she going to… how was he going to… oh god.

She was crying.

She was crying so hard that she was… possibly going to throw up, and that would be perfect, wouldn’t it?

It would be the moment she was erupting from both ends, but she couldn’t stop crying, it was just.. This was all so disgusting. 

How was it possible to be so disgusting?

She was just… gross.

She was disgusting, and he was going to hate her forever, and she was sobbing, full on drooling out of her… everything.

It was warm.

It was warm and wet and soft, and she could already smell it, and it burned.

“Oh, honey,” said Arlan, and his hand was on the back of her head, sifting through her hair. 

“I’m… s-s-sorry,” Ellie mumbled, and she sniffled. “I’m sorry, I’m… I’m disgusting. I’m….” 

“Shhh,” said Arlan, and he was looking down at her, his blue eyes full of compassion.

She burst into a fresh round of tears, and then she was clinging to him, holding on to his thigh, and she was shaking, and he was… petting her head.

“It’s okay,” said Arlan. “C’mon, you need to stand up.” 

She blinked up at him.

He held his hand out, and she took it, squeezing his fingers, then stood up.

And it was… in her pants. 

It was in her pants, in her underwear, and it was disgusting, and it was… going down her legs. 

“I don’t… I’m sorry,” Ellie mumbled. 

She held his hand. 

They walked slowly. 

She was trying to walk slowly, carefully, but it was still… sliding down her legs.

How was this so damn disgusting?

How was she so disgusting?

He must have hated her so much. 

Oh god.

“Arlan, I’m… I’m sorry….”

“You need to stop apologizing, honey,” said Arlan, as he opened up the front door.

It was, thankfully, empty. 

Okay.

She wanted to… what did she want to do?

She never wanted to eat another gummy bear again.

Her ass was still… burning.

She was still pretty… full, for lack of a better way of putting it. 

So what was she going to do?

She couldn’t just… except she was.

There was more… coming out of her.

A decent amount of it, and it was… it was going to start soaking through her pants soon, oh god.

She was going to need to take a shower.

But… oh god.

What was she supposed to do?

How was she going to… oh fuck….

She was crying again.

She just… let him take her. 

She let him guide her up the stairs, and she was just in a haze of tears and stomach upset, until she was… standing in Arlan’s bathroom. 

In his bathtub. 

With her shoes on.

Wait a minute.

“What’s going on?”

“Ellie, we’re gonna take your clothes off, and we’re gonna give you a bath. And I’m gonna diaper you, until your tummy feels better, okay?”

“I don't want you to… I don’t want you to judge me…,” Ellie mumbled.

“I will… freely admit that I feel a little sorry for you,” said Arlan. “Your poor stomach must be giving you a bunch of trouble.”

“It… kind of sucks,” said Ellie, and she laughed weakly.

… wait.

Oh.

No, more of it was… coming out of her, and it burned.

And… Arlan was just watching her.

He was watching her shit her pants, and she was… sobbing.

Oh god.

“Oh, honey,” said Arlan, and he kissed her forehead. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry? This is my fault?”

She sniffled.

“I mean, yeah, but nobody deserves this.”

“Not even your worst enemy?”

“I don’t think I have a worst enemy.”

She burst out laughing - and farted at about the same time, which made her laugh harder, and then she was… oh god, she was… was the tank finally empty?

Or at least on its way to empty?

She groaned.

… these jeans were done for.

“Okay,” said Arlan, “I’m going to get a garbage bag to put your pants in. Okay?”

Ellie rubbed her nose, and she sighed, still crying, just a little.

“Okay,” said Arlan, and he was back, with a garbage bag. “So… do you want to just… let it all out?”

“You mean, like… on purpose?”

“I mean,” said Arlan, “it’d make it easier, right? Because that way you don’t have to worry about, uh… about any more of it coming out.”

“Right,” said Ellie. 

“And if you just… let it all out, you’ll be okay….”

"So you just want me to... to go, right here?"

"Right," said Arlan.

"I... I don't know if I can," Ellie said, and she was going to start crying again. "I don't know if I can... I mean...." 

"Do you want me to hold your hands?"

Arlan's voice was so... sweet.

So understanding.

So accepting.

"I... okay," Ellie said, because what else was she going to say?

How did she say no, to that sweet face, to those blue eyes?

So she took Arlan's hands in her own, and she looked into his face, biting her lip and trying to push.

... it was difficult.

She had to bend her knees a little, then squat, and Arlan did it with her, and it was... it was so uncomfortable, but it was making things happen... inside, and then she was grunting, which was... it was so embarrassing, and her face was screwing up, she was turning red, but it was... it was happening.

Ellie pooped herself, on purpose, right in front of Arlan, and Arlan just kept looking at her with a sweet expression.

The guy was... he was something.

There were tears coursing down her face, and she didn't know what to do about them, as she stood up again, her legs still shaking, and more of it just... filled out the back of her pants.

Oh god.

"Good girl," Arlan praised her, and then he was... speaking in Danish, as she sobbed.

Maybe he was trying to cheer her up - maybe he was just trying to help her feel better, since Danish had helped in the past.

He crooned to her, making sympathetic noises and helping her out of the jeans, the panties.

"Okay," Arlan said, when she was naked in the tub, and he had her clothes in a garbage bag, "I'm going to rinse you off now, okay?"

She nodded, and she sniffed, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

If nothing else, all of the crying had made it a little harder to smell.

Thank god.

She smelled horrible.

She barely reacted when he turned the water on, just let it hit her, let it wash the filth off of the tub, and then let it rinse her off, until it wasn't caked on anymore.

At which point, Arlan got out the soap, and began to scrub.

He washed her all over, and he spoke to her in Danish, in English.

Maybe he could tell that she was on the verge of a panic attack - he seemed to be good at estimating when that was a thing that was going to happen.

Or maybe she was just going to die of the humiliation of it to begin with, and she was just accepting it.

Her head was someplace nice - someplace quiet, someplace that was warm, and he was here with her, he was taking care of her, and he didn't hate her.

That was all that mattered.

* * * 

"There we go," said Arlan, after he'd taken her out of the bath. "I'm going to diaper you now."

"You are?"

She licked her lips, and she was blushing.

"You've still got some candy in your guts, right?"

She nodded, and her whole face was red.

"Well," he said, "this will help. It'll keep you from having to worry about any of that."

"Are you sure? That it's not too -"

"Ellie," Arlan said, and he took each of her hands in his own, and he kissed them - first the tip of each finger, then her palm, then back of her hand. "I am perfectly okay with this. I promise. Okay?"

"... okay."

She took a deep, shuddering breath, and she rubbed her eyes.

"Good girl," he said, and he was taking the diaper out, and spreading it open under her.

He had her by the ankles, and he was just... lifting her up, so that he could slide it under her.

Oh god.

She was covering her face with both hands, the humiliation singing through her like a plucked guitar string.

She was so... cute like this.

He leaned in, and he kissed her tummy, because he could, and then he was rubbing powder onto her pussy, her thighs, her ass.

He taped her into the diaper, and he kissed her on the mouth, a slow, sweet, gentle kiss.

The kind of kiss that made his toes curl and his knees go weak.

"How about I give you some tummy medicine, so you can feel better, and then we can snuggle and watch a movie?"

"That... that sounds like fun," said Ellie, and she licked her lips. "Sorry."

"It's perfectly okay," said Arlan. "I promise. Okay?"

"Okay," said Ellie, then; "Are you sure you don't... hate me? Or think I'm gross?"

"I could never hate you, honey," said Arlan. "Barring... well, you know, something really horrific. But I've had some bad experiences."

"You pooped your pants like that?"

"Well, no," said Arlan. "But I've thrown up on myself at an inopportune occasion."

"Is there ever an _opportune_ occasion to throw up on yourself?"

"Probably not before your best friend's graduation party," said Arlan, and he grinned a bit in spite of himself.

It hadn't been his proudest moment, although it had been long enough by now that he could just laugh at it. 

"... fair," said Ellie.

Arlan carefully taped her in, and then he was digging around to give her a shirt.

"You stay right there," he told Ellie, "and I'll go get the tummy medicine."

"Right," said Ellie, and she snuggled into the shirt.

It was technically Arlan's shirt - an old t-shirt - and she was hugging herself with it. 

God, she was cute.

When he came back with the tummy medicine, he found her... fast asleep.

Full on knocked out, snoring again.

He woke her up, just long enough for her to take the medicine, and then she was out like a light, her eyelashes casting little shadows down her cheeks. 

He remembered her face, red, the sound of her grunting as she just... went in her pants, holding his hands and looking into his face, her expression full of shame and... something else.

He was hard.

He'd just watched her poop herself, and he was thinking about how he wanted to see her do it again.

Oh god.

He was getting... he was getting weird, wasn't he?

Ellie made a small sleep sound, and rolled over onto her stomach, wrapping herself around the pillow.

Arlan smiled reflexively, his shameful arousal momentarily forgotten at the sight of her face so relaxed.

God.

He wanted... he wanted to press himself against her, he wanted to grind his cock against the crinkly, rounded plastic of her diaper, he wanted to kiss her until he couldn't breathe, he wanted... he wanted to hold her.

Although he probably needed to get off before he did anything like that, otherwise she might think he had an ulterior motive.

... a posterior motive would be a better one, really, considering the fact that it was hers that he was so focused on. 

He wanted to wrap himself around her, and he wanted to hump her ass.

... he wanted to fuck her while she was diapered.

He wanted... god, he wanted so much.

He wasn't even sure how much he wanted - what was going to be too much? 

He didn't even know all the things that Ellie was... okay with.

He knew a lot of things about her, though.

And... he needed to jerk off.

He needed to not be this hard, when Ellie was having belly trouble, and all he wanted to do was press himself as close to her as possible, to smell her hair, to feel her skin.

... okay, no, now he was starting to weird himself out.

He sounded like a goddamn serial killer.

Okay.

He was going to go jerk off in the bathroom, and when Ellie woke up, they'd... do something. 

He didn't know yet.

* * *

Arlan jerked off in his bathroom, his head thrown back, his hand clutching at his own thigh, and he thrust into his own fist.

He had his eyes closed, and he was imagining... what was he imagining?

... he was imagining Ellie in his lap, Ellie clutching at his shirt.

Ellie's face screwing up, turning red. 

The sound of her grunting, the sound of her... the sound of her using the diaper.

What would that sound like?

_Why_ was he thinking about this?

Oh god, he was turning into some kind of gross, creepy pervert, wasn't he?

He groaned, and he began to jerk himself off harder.

He wanted her to look in his face while she was doing it. 

He loved how her face looked while it happened - it reminded him of when she was cumming.

And now... oh... now he was... oh god, he was going to cum.

He was going to cum, right here and now, and it would be... it would be... oh... fuck....

He came across his hand, and he groaned, opening his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

He was... well, he was a mess, but he could deal with that.

He'd wash off, he'd make food, it would all be well and good. 

Okay.

He sighed.

Trust his sexuality to keep throwing him curve balls, even after he'd dealt with all of the other difficult bits.

At least this was just... well, gross, versus full on morally reprehensible. 

There were worse things to be than gross.

* * * 

Ellie woke up to Arlan sprawled out on the bed next to her, a book balanced on his stomach.

He was wearing a pair of glasses, and the sound of the pages turning was oddly soothing.

"Hi," Ellie said, and she rolled over, looking up at him.

"Hi," he said, and he leaned down, kissing her on the mouth.

She sighed, and whatever bit of anxiety that had been knotting up in the middle of her chest... loosened. 

He didn't find her repulsive. 

He was still attracted to her.

Okay.

Not that she was... too worried, but then again, you never really know what it is that gets people turned on or turned off, do you?

She draped an arm around his leg, and she snuggled in, her head on his chest.

"What are you reading?"

"Just a fantasy novel," he said. "It's in Danish."

"Read it to me?"

"Do you want me to translate it for you?"

"No," said Ellie. "Just read it to me."

"You're not gonna understand what I'm saying, silly," said Arlan, and his tone was teasing.

"Well," said Ellie, "maybe I just wanna hear your voice."

And Arlan... he blushed.

God, how could he be so cute?

Her head was still fuzzy from sleep, and her eyes were half closed, as he began to read to her.

His voice was filling her whole head, rumbling through her.

She held onto his shirt, and she rubbed his belly, gently.

He had a fine dusting of hair there, and he made a vague complaining noise, then submitted to it, still reading.

She didn't really know what he was reading - she picked up a word, every now and then - "lindwurm" kept popping up, which she recalled meant some kind of dragon.

So this was a story about a dragon.

She liked stories about dragons.

What kind of dragon was it, though?

The hand not holding the book or turning the pages was stroking her hair, gently carding his fingers through it, and she sighed, relaxing harder.

She didn't know that she could just be this comfortable.

The kind of comfortable that just burrowed down into her bones, that left her slightly limp, left her so... something or other.

She didn't know the words for it.

Maybe she'd ask him about it, later.

Right now, she just wanted to enjoy the moment with him. 

He read on, and lindwurm kept showing up.

She'd was also going to have to ask him to summarize.

At some point. 

* * *

They ate dinner - he made pasta again.

She ate it carefully.

“I like you in those thick diapers,” said Arlan, and he was blushing.

“Do you?”

“Oh yeah,” said Arlan, and oh wow, he was _really_ blushing.

“Do you want me to… to stay in them?”

“I… if you wouldn’t mind.”

“As long as I get a little bit of time to breathe, now and again,” said Ellie. “Since, you know, these types of things aren’t the most breathable.”

“Of course,” said Arlan. “Whenever you want out, you just say something, okay?”

“Okay,” said Ellie. 

“But in the meantime….” 

Arlan licked his lips.

“In the meantime?”

She looked over at him.

“In the meantime… we should just keep you in them.”

“Right.”

* * *

Time went by. 

A week passed, and they just… kept each other company. 

They did stuff - they fucked, they went out. 

Ellie tried - and failed miserably - to cook for him.

… he wasn’t too mad at her about it, at least, and there wasn’t a fire to worry about.

It turned out, Arlan was horrible at spicy food, which Ellie found hilarious.

Ellie, in turn, couldn’t stand salted licorice, so it all evened out.

He kept her diapered, and he kept her close.

Ellie wrote emails home - she didn’t give details, and none were asked, because that was the kind of relationship she had with her mother.

But she sent a few snapshots, a few stories about feeding ducks, or going to restaurants.

Life went on, in a way that was so… easy that she almost didn’t want to believe it.

* * *

And then she had the nightmare. 

It didn’t start out a nightmare - she was walking towards Lars’ house, and it was a nice day.

She was diapered - she was diapered all the time these days, and she didn’t think too deeply about it, what with it being a dream. 

And then she was knocking on the door, and... there was Lars’ mother, and she was… she was shouting. 

Oh god, she was really shouting.

She was shouting a lot, and she was shouting loudly, and she was calling Ellie a pedophile, which, no, Ellie wasn’t a pedophile, Ellie wasn’t, this wasn’t… that wasn’t how it went, that wasn’t who Ellie was, and now Ellie was crying, Ellie was crying so hard, and there were… there were cops, and the cops were all speaking Danish so quickly that she couldn’t keep up with any of it.

Ellie was picking up on some Danish - all that Danish kiddy television seemed to be helping her vocabulary - but still. 

She cried.

She cried like her heart was breaking, as she was called a pervert, a disgusting… something, and she couldn’t stop crying, she was going to be sick, she couldn’t be sick, she couldn’t….

Ellie jerked awake, and she was shaking, panting.

Arlan was shaking her, and she was soaked in sweat, still crying.

“Honey,” Arlan said, and his voice was sleepy, and full of concern.

His beard was rough against her cheek, as he kissed her. 

“Please don’t take me away,” Ellie mumbled, and she pressed her face into Arlan’s neck, still crying, her nose running.

“Shhh,” said Arlan. “I’m not taking you away. I promise. Nobody is going to take you anywhere. I’m right here. Good girl, shh….”

Ellie snuffled, and she kept clinging to his pajama shirt.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m… I’m sorry, I’m sorry….”

“What are you sorry for, baby?”

Arlan’s voice was gentle.

“For being… for being a pervert,” Ellie mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

Arlan sat up, and he pulled her to him, so that her head was underneath his chin, and he was rubbing her belly. 

“Shhh,” said Arlan. “Shh… you’re not a pervert. Or if you’re a pervert, I’m as much of a pervert as you are, so it’s not like you’re in bad company.”

“I don’t wanna be a pervert,” Ellie snuffled.

“You don’t have to be,” Arlan assured her. “Sometimes people just… have unusual interests. It’s not like you’re trying to enforce them on anyone or something like that, you’re just… having a lot of feelings right now. It’s okay.”

“Are you just making vaguely soothing noises in an attempt to get me to stop freaking out?”

Her tone had a shade of accusation to it, but he seemed to be ignoring it.

“A little bit,” he said, “but some of it is to reassure me.”

“Reassure you?”

“I mean,” said Arlan, “I’m kind of self conscious too, since, y’know… I feel like I’m a bit of a gross pervert too, sometimes.”

“I get that feeling,” said Ellie, and she sighed. “We’re just a pair of weirdos, aren’t we?”

“Yep,” Arlan said. 

“... I’m afraid to go back to sleep,” Ellie said. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Because, uh… I had a nightmare,” said Ellie, and she pressed her face into Arlan’s neck.

Arlan rubbed her back, still making soothing noises.

“What kinda nightmare?”

“The kind where I got found out by Lars’ mom and called a pervert,” said Ellie, “and everyone else was calling me a pervert, and a bunch of other stuff, but it was all in Danish and it was really fast, and I didn’t know what to do or say, so I just started to cry, and I’m such an uglier, awkward crier-”

“I don’t think you’re an ugly crier,” said Arlan.

Ellie snorted.

“You’re a horrible liar,” she told him.

“I’m not lying,” said Arlan, although he was blushing.

She could feel the heat that was coming off of his face.

She kissed him, a loud smacking kiss, and she leaned against him. 

“Do you want me to sing to you?”

“Is this to make up for lying?”

“I still maintain I wasn’t lying,” Arlan said.

Stubborn bastard.

It was one of the things she adored about him, come to think of it. 

“Fair enough. Sure, you can sing to me.”

And he sang.

It was in Danish, and she wasn’t following the thread of it, but that didn’t matter.

All that mattered was that his arms were around her, and he was resting his chin on her shoulder and rocking her gently, making soothing noises, and her eyes were fluttering closed, slowly.

He was a decent singer - he more or less stayed on key, and he kept the melody.

She was falling asleep - she was aware of it, but she was so… comfy.

So what did it matter?

* * *

Arlan woke up to Ellie draped over him like a blanket the next morning.

He blinked, and then she was looking into his face, and she was grinning. 

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he said. “You feeling better?”

She was heavy against him, and it was a comforting weight, almost like it was grounding him.

“Yeah,” she said, and she looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry about all of that.”

“Sorry about all of what?”

“You know,” said Ellie. “The… freaking out.”

He held her face in his hands, and he kissed her on the nose.

“It’s totally okay. I promise. Okay?”

“Okay,” said Ellie.

She giggled, and then she squealed, when he groped her diapered ass.

“You’re such a pervert,” she told him.

“Well, yeah,” he said. 

“I’m one too,” she said cheerfully, and then she was… straddling his waist, and she was pressing the crotch of her diaper against his crotch, and that was… oh wow.

Oh, fuck.

Yes.

He ground his hips forward, and he was… he was definitely up for this.

Very much up for this.

He tried to grind his hips forther, and he was grinding a duvet into the softness of the crotch of the diaper.

“I’m wet, Arlan,” Ellie said, in a sing-song voice. 

“Are you?”

“Yeah,” she said, and she grabbed for his hand, placing it on her thigh. “Feel?”

He slid his fingers into the leg of the diaper, but instead of pressing against the padding, he went for her pussy. 

He stroked it, gently, right along her slit, and he was gathering up some of her wetness.

She was damp, from peeing herself, from arousal.

It was still weird to think that she found him so attractive, even after he was getting horny for putting her in diapers.

Then again... she was getting off on wearing them in the first place, so maybe he was overthinking it.

It was one of those things, wasn't it?

He cupped her cheek in one hand, and he brought her closer to him, so that they were nose to nose, and they could kiss.

She kissed him like it was the end of the world, with a kind of desperation that was almost scary, except that she was grinding into his hand, as he slid more of it into the diaper, and she was so wet... how much had she peed?

How aroused was she?

God, how did he get so lucky?

Her green hair stood out against the beige of his bedroom walls, and he smiled at her, pulling back and watching her face as he carefully, carefully rubbed her clit.

She rolled her hips, and her knees were digging into his sides, as she began to pant.

She was shaking.

God, she was... was humping into his hand, as he curled his fingers, sliding them inside of her. 

She clenched around him, and he shuddered.

"Do you want me to get you out of that wet diaper, baby girl?"

She shook her head, and she was blushing.

"Can you fuck me while I'm wearing it?"

"... I can certainly try," he said. 

She blushed, and then she sobbed, as his thumb rolled over her clit, like he was scrolling through something on his phone.

... which made him snicker.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking," said Arlan, "how a lot of millennials must be pretty good at making people with clits cum."

"Hm?"

She looked down at him, and she looked amused. 

"Oh really?"

"Because, you know... phones."

He repeated the motion on her clit, and she gasped, squeezing him again.

"... okay, yeah, you've got a point there," she said, and she was giggling. "I think that maybe we're getting better at sex because of technology."

"We're probably finding new ways to have weird sex," Arlan said. 

"Can you... god, can you take your cock out, please? I wanna feel it. In me. I want... I want your cock in me."

"Aw, honey," said Arlan, and he was... he was talking to her like she was a little kid.

Oh god.

She was clenching around him.

"Can you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Talking to me like... you know, like I'm... like I'm a little kid," she said, and she was blushing. "Maybe... maybe baby talking to me. Maybe even in Danish?"

"You mean like this?" 

He said it in Danish, and she squeezed him tighter, her face turning pink.

" _Seriously_?" 

He was laughing. 

He couldn't help it!

She just... she looked so cute.

So awkward. 

So horny, but... embarrassed about being horny, and it made his stomach twist up in interesting ways, as his cock throbbed like a broken tooth. 

"I'm sorry," she said, and then she sobbed, as he began to rub her clit again, a little harder.

He forgot about taking his cock out - he forgot about all of that, just paid attention to how red her face, paid attention to the way her chest was rising and falling, the way her pussy was pulsing around his fingers.

And he kept speaking - he wasn't even saying anything especially arousing, but every word he said, she would tighten, she would clench, she would moan.

And then... she came. 

She came around his fingers, a wet, gushing orgasm, right across his hand, and his fingers were going to prune up, as he kept dirty talking her. 

"Arlan... Arlan, please?" 

"Please what, Ellie?"

"I... I heard my name," she said thickly. "Please, Arlan. Please?"

"Ask me nicely," he said, and then he was rolling them over, and he was on top of her, pushing his pajama bottoms down, and his cock was rubbing against the front of her diaper - it was plastic, and it was a little rough, but... oh, it also felt like heaven. 

God it was... it was perfect.

He was grinding his hips, and he was whispering to Ellie in Danish, as she wrapped her legs around his hips and clung to his shoulders, balling up his pajama shirt in her fists and holding on.

"Please," she whined.

"Ask me in Danish," he told her, first in Danish, then in English.

"I don't... I don't know the Danish for that," she whined. 

"No? Well, repeat after me."

And then he rattled off "please fuck me," in a sweet, sing-song voice.

He was a little embarrassed by it, truth be told - his cock twitched against the front of her diaper, and she whined, her hips rolling against him. 

She tried - she tried valiantly! - but… well, no dice.

Her mouth couldn’t wrap around the syllables right.

“Try again, sweetheart,” said Arlan, and there were those sweet syllables again, but… nothing.

Her mouth stumbled over it, and he moaned, pressing closer, and he began to grind into her in earnest, his cock fucking a furrow into the crotch of her diaper. 

“Ellie,” he said, then, in Danish; “be good for me, do it, be good for me, take it, take my cum, take my pleasure. Do it, be a good girl.”

“I can’t pee when I’m this turned on,” Ellie mumbled, and Arlan paused, looking into her face, and then she was arching into him, still humping, and she was sobbing as she just… came.

Wow.

Sometimes, he was a bit shocked at just how easy it was for her to cum.

Not that he was going to complain too hard, when she was squirming against him, and god, she was just… she was so gorgeous like this, her hair bouncing, her tits jiggling under her shirt.

He shoved the crotch of the diaper to the side, and then he pressed his cock inside of her.

Full on pushed it inside of her, one long, smooth stroke, and dear _god_ , but she felt so good inside.

She was... she was tight, she was wet, she was... she was so tight that it practically made his eyes cross.

"Ellie," Arlan said, and he pressed his forehead against hers. "Fuck, Ellie!"

He was sliding between English and Danish, and she was looking up at him, grinding forward, her legs around his waist.

"Arlan," she said.

"Be a good girl, Ellie," Arlan said, in Danish. "Be a good girl and cum for me. Be a good girl, take my cum."

She was wet - her diaper was thick with it, wet and sodden, and he just kept fucking her, even though the diaper was going to start leaking. 

He was going to have to wash the sheets, but fuck it, he was going to make her cum.

He was going to make her cum, he was going to cum inside of her, and... fuck, she was just so gorgeous.

So perfect, for him.

How could he feel so strongly for her, when it hadn't even been that long?

He flexed his cock inside of her, and her eyes rolled back into her head. 

... wow.

Okay, so that was a bit of an ego boost.

He couldn't help it - she was just... she was so _good_ , and he was just... giving it to her. 

He was fucking her. 

He was folding her in half now - he'd heard this position described before, the "Viennese oyster", although he'd never really thought of doing it with someone before - let alone with someone in a diaper.

And here he was, doing it.

Fuck.

He was going to cum in her, he was going to cum in her cunt, he was going to fill her up with his cum, the pressure was just building and _building_ , and he was so close, he was....

"Please," Ellie whispered, and she was looking straight into his face as she said it.

He came inside of her. 

He came inside of her, in a gush of wetness and sweet, sweet pleasure, and he flopped onto her, his cock still twitching, as she ground against him.

Her hand was sliding between their bodies, and she was rubbing her clit, rubbing it hard enough that her toes were curling, her eyes rolling back into her head. 

She let him fuck up into her, let him rub her clit, and then she was on her way towards an orgasm, as he pressed into her.

She came around his spent cock, and it was sweet, sweet agony, her whole body shaking.

"Hey," he said, his voice quiet, and he nuzzled into her neck, kissing along her neck. 

"You're... better at that than you have a right to be," she murmured, and she smiled at him, her expression faintly dazed. 

"Do I have a right to be really good at fucking you?"

"Evidently," she said, and she was shy, all of a sudden.

"You alright?"

He cupped her face, pressed a delicate kiss to her mouth.

She kissed him back, equally gentle, although his fingers were musky, and smelled faintly of her piss.

Oh well.

At least she didn't seem to mind.

"Thanks for letting me stay," she said quietly. "And, y'know, for... all of this."

"Of course," he said, and he kissed her again, because he could, because she was his Ellie and he was her Arlan, and somewhere along the line that had just become the way it was.

He wasn't going to worry about it too hard, because... well, it made them happy, and that was what mattered, wasn't it?

* * *

Ellie rolled over, stretching like a cat, and she looked over at Arlan, smiling nervously.

"Want to go out today?"

"Mm?"

She was snuggled up to him, her head on his chest, holding on to his shirt. 

"Out. My sweet tooth has been acting up."

"Oh," he said. "Sure. You wanna go to the little candy shop nearby?"

"Sounds like a good plan," she said, and she stretched.

Her diaper crinkled loudly.

"Do you need to be changed?"

His tone was sweet, teasing.

"I'll be okay," she mumbled, and she was blushing, just a bit. 

"You should get dressed," he said. "Don't want to send you out and about in just your pajamas."

She sighed, her head on his chest still.

"I want gummy bears," she said. 

"No gummy bears," he said. 

She giggled a bit in spite of herself, because, well.... 

It had been humiliating at the time, but Arlan had been so into it that she couldn’t help being a bit endeared.

That was the magic of the guy, wasn’t it?

He was just… he made her feel so unselfconscious. 

She wasn’t “that weird autistic girl” or “that awkward chick with green hair,” she was just… herself, and he was crazy about her.

She kissed him, and he kissed her back. 

“Gummy sharks?”

“We’ll see,” he said. “C’mon. Let’s get you dressed.”

He patted her on the hip.

It crinkled.

* * * 

Ellie got her candy.

She got a rather lot of candy, pointing to different jars and asking Arlan how to say it, and he told her, because he was a sweet (heh) guy like that.

And then they were heading out, and okay, maybe she may have been speaking a little too fast, trying out Danish words, but they were stopped by an older woman.

She was a friend of Arlan’s mother, or maybe Arlan’s aunt - Ellie couldn’t keep up, since she was talking very fast.

She spoke very rapidly to Ellie in Danish, and Ellie smiled in what she hoped was a winning manner.

“I don’t speak Danish,” she said in Danish, aware that her accent was horrible, and she was blushing.

The woman tried a few other languages, and Ellie shook her head, still smiling.

It was beginning to feel a bit fixed.

The woman was talking animatedly, indicating Ellie, and Arlan was making vague noises of agreement.

… was it obvious that she was diapered?

Ellie was wearing a long skirt, and it was hopefully hiding everything, but… well, how was she to know?

She ran her hands over her thighs, and then she was rubbing her fingers over her thumbnails, an old stimming standby, as her heart thundered in her ears.

The anxiety was trying to climb out of her throat like a rat, and she could practically feel its rank fur on her tongue.

The woman seemed to be done talking - she patted Ellie on the cheek, and said “god bless” in a thick accent, then went off.

“What was all that about?”

“Oh,” said Arlan, and he cleared his throat, looking faintly embarrassed. 

“Oh?”

Ellie raised an eyebrow, the bag dangling off of her wrist.

“Well,” said Arlan, and he cleared his throat again.

He always did that when he didn’t want to say something - she’d noticed that about him.

She knew a lot of things about him, come to think of it.

And… she’d be going back to the US soon.

God, that made something in her stomach clench up uncomfortably.

She really liked him, didn’t she?

… maybe she was halfway to being in love with him.

That was an even more anxiety inducing thing to think about.

Oh fuck.

She was just a giant ball of anxiety. 

“She, uh… well.” Arlan had his hands shoved in his pockets. “I used to, uh, to volunteer with people with special needs. And I think she… assumed that was what was going on, for whatever reason, and she was talking so much I didn’t really get a word in edgewise.”

“Oh,” said Ellie.

Her stomach dropped to her feet.

Was that all she was to Arlan?

Just another charity case?

“You didn’t tell me that you’d worked with special needs people before,” said Ellie.

“Yeah, I did it for a chunk of time, when I was in my twenties,” said Arlan. “It’s been a bit, obviously.”

“Right,” Ellie said quietly.

Why was she so upset about this?

She… couldn’t entirely understand it, but she wasn’t going to push it.

She was just going to try to follow her gut.

And her gut was saying “run.”

* * *

“Do you need a new ble?”

Arlan used the Danish term, just to tease her, and she blushed, but she shook her head.

“I’m okay,” she told him.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

She drew away from him, making her way to the bedroom.

“You okay?”

He was looking at her, his expression worried.

“I’m fine,” she said, which wasn’t true, but… fuck it.

She’d live.

She’d go to the embassy, figure it out from there.

That had been her original plan, anyway.

She just had to take the diaper off, get herself packed up.

She could do this.

She was, after all, an adult.

* * *

Ellie came out of the bedroom, and Arlan could already tell that she wasn’t diapered.

She was also holding her suitcase, and she looked like she was going to start crying. 

… the fuck?

“Ellie?”

Arlan’s heart was in his throat. 

What was going on?

“I… I’m sorry to have taken up your time,” Ellie said, and her lower lip was wobbling.

Oh god.

What had he done wrong?

“Ellie?”

His voice cracked.

“I don’t… I don’t want to be a charity case,” Ellie said, and she sniffed, loudly, rubbing her eyes.

“I don’t think you’re a charity case,” Arlan said, and he was standing up quickly. “If you want… if you want to leave, I won’t stop you. I’ll drive you.”

“Do you _want_ me to go?”

Now Ellie was really crying.

“No,” said Arlan. “But… but I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay, just to make me happy.”

“You don’t want to just… keep me around because you’re used to taking care of people like me?”

“Ellie, I just… like you. I think that you’re… I think you’re great. I think I might….” 

“You might?”

She took a deep breath, and so did he.

… fuck it. 

If they were going to be honest, he’d be honest.

“I might be falling in love with you. As… as you, not just as someone I could take care of, or someone who I have sex with. I like… I love you as yourself, as all of the bits of you, and I want to… I know I want to visit you, in America, and I’d like you to come back here, but if you don’t want to… I mean….”

And then Arlan was crying himself.

Oh god.

This was… he’d be embarrassed, but… fuck it.

And then Ellie was taking steps up to him, and she had put down her suitcase, and she was wrapping her arms around him, and she was kissing him.

His wet face pressed against her wet face, and it was almost poetic - the mingling of their tears, or some shit like that.

When he pulled back, she was looking up at him, her eyes red rimmed.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice rough, her nose obviously stuffy.

“I am too,” said Arlan. “I’ll be more… clear about my feelings.”

“I have… I have feelings for you too,” she said, and her voice was very quiet.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, and she pressed their foreheads together, rubbing their noses together. 

“Well… whatever you feel,” he said, “I’m gonna be here. As long as you want me to be.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

She stood on tiptoe, and she kissed him again.

* * *

Eleanore Donner was crying in an airport again.

She really wished she could stop, although she’d never been very good at stopping crying when she wanted to.

Arlan was giving her tissue after tissue, which she kept soaking through.

She wasn’t diapered, because… well, it would be a pain to deal with all of that.

But Arlan was looking a little sad too, and that helped.

“So,” said Arlan, “you’ll call me?”

“As soon as I touch down. And if the plane’s wifi is good, I’ll message you, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, and he squeezed her tightly. “And I’ll start looking into flights, as soon as I get home.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

She wiped her eyes, and she looked up at him.

He grinned down at her, although it looked a little wobbly along the edges.

“It’ll be okay,” he said. “And to make it even, I’ll cry when I get to the American airport, okay?”

She burst out laughing.

It was a gross, watery laugh, but it was still a laugh, and she was still giggling, as she made her way towards customs.


End file.
